500 Minutes
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: Spike meets a beautiful woman at a bar, unaware that she's really targeting him. But when he fails to show up for work one day, can the team find him before time runs out? What is her plan for him and who else is involved?
1. Careful What you Wish For

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 1 – Careful What you Wish For**

**Summary:** Spike meets a beautiful woman at a bar, unaware that she's really targeting him. But when he fails to show up for work one day, can the team find him before time runs out? What is her plan for him and who else is involved?

**Disclaimer: **Sadly I own nothing from the awesomeness that is Flashpoint, that belongs to CTV, CBC and whoever else! Lol Any other OC's are my own and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidence as I use a random name generator for most of my OC's

**A/N:** Well thanks for the kind words of confidence for my last fic it has given me the courage to proceed with a longer fic. This one will center on Spike it'll have some romance, danger, peril, angst and action. And thanks to all that voted in my poll. So Wordy will focus here next to Spike and I'll use Sam in the next story since he's next (so far – but you can still vote). Hope you all like it.

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><p>"Alright team good job. One more day and then it's the weekend. Get some rest and see you all tomorrow," Sargent Greg Parker's warm voice tells his team after a trying case and an even longer week. Each member slowly disperses, talking about their plans for the weekend, laughing and joking and then finally going their separate ways.<p>

Spike heads into the locker room and slowly pulls the two doors open and stares at his leather jacket and jeans. _Great, another weekend listening to my parents arguing about my professional future. _And when they weren't arguing with him, Spike's parents hardly had anything to say unless it was a few terse sentences or comments about things they had saw earlier in the news.

"Yeah fun…"

He hears a small shuffle behind him and turns to see fellow team mate and friend, Kevin, 'Wordy' Wordsworth looking at him in suspect.

"You know once you start talkin' to yourself…" his voice trails off as he turns back to his locker.

"Intelligent conversation right? 'sides I'm kinda used to it," Spike finishes with a quieter tone, drawing Wordy's glance back in his direction and then finally step toward him.

"Now that was morbid. But you have been kinda morbid all week," Wordy's hand finally rests on his shoulder. "Now I'm gonna borrow Ed's line and say…'wanna talk about it?'"

Spike gives his friend a weak smile but just shakes his head and turns away. "I mean really it's no big deal."

"I don't even need the boss's insight to know you are lying. Come on, what's going on?"

Spike turns back to his friend and heaves a heavy sigh before finally reaching into his side pocket and pulling out a folded up piece of paper. "Wordy, it's no big deal," Spike insists as he tries to snatch it back, rethinking his decision a few seconds too late.

But Wordy's thick grasp keeps his younger friend's hands at bay as he reads the official letter. "Congratulations you were first place at…what is this exactly?"

Spike just smirks as he is finally able to snatch the paper from his friends loosened grasp and then quickly folds it up and shoves it back into his locker.

"Whatever it is, I'm guessing that it has something to do with work and mama Scarlatti didn't like it?"

"You would be correct on both guesses," Spike replies as he turns back. "It's just hard you know…to come home every night to two people who don't give a damn about what I do and only give you fake smiles because you threaten to not eat dinner with them that night," Spike just shakes his head in frustration. "Once a year all the tactical comm…geeks," he grins and Wordy just smiles at the non-techno reference, "get together and are tested on hacking skills. It's a legit competition to see who is the fastest and the best. And this year…"

"You won. That's great," Wordy pats his friend on the back.

"Yeah…great," Spike offers him a fake smile before he turns around to gather his jeans and shirt to change. "Alright well um…I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Did you tell anyone else on the team about this?"

"No…haven't really had time this week. Look it's no big deal. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You know Shelly and the girls are at her mom's place for a few more hours…why don't I take you for a beer to celebrate?"

"It's okay you don't have to…"

"I know I don't have to, but I would like to. It's on me," Wordy presses his friend a bit more.

"Yeah. That sounds good. Just lemme change."

Spike gathers his clothes and heads for the bathroom, his anxiety easing a little bit more. Since he had gotten that letter a few days ago, he had tried to tell, at least his mother on a few different occasions but she'd always try to deflect the topic away from his actual job.

_'Ma, it's a great recognition. I mean these were the top guys in the whole country and it was a test by the Gove…'_

_'Why don't you go to work for Microsoft. You are a smart boy, you could have a regular job and make a lot of money.'_

_'I don't want to work for Mircrosoft and it's not about the money.'_

_'Well I think it would be much better. I'm sure your boss could give you a good reference.'_

_'I make a difference in this job.'_

_'You could make a difference working for…'_

And on it went. If it wasn't Microsoft, it was some other company; anything that would land his ass in a chair and take a gun out of his hands – permanently. _'There is too much danger in what you do Michael', _his mother would chide. _'Why don't you listen to us for once? Don't you care about your parents? Do you want to leave me all alone? To fend for myself when your father is gone?'_

So he had kept his enthusiasm at bay for the past few days because he had work to concentrate on and the last few cases had run well into the evening and when the team finally dispersed it was late and everyone just wanted to go home; except for him. Spike wanted to go anywhere but home, anywhere to talk to or share with someone his accomplishment.

But going for a beer with a good friend was something he was now looking forward to and so exits the bathroom with lessened agitation than when he entered.

"You sure you want to go? Because I really don't mind just headin' home. Kinda used to either the silent treatment or the verbal death by indifference by now."

"Okay stop with the sad stories or I'll end up adopting you myself," Wordy grins as he grabs his jacket and shuts his locker closed. "Yeah I'm sure."

The two of them walk out of the quiet room, leaving behind a wake of mild laughter and a few heavy sighs of relief. Spike enters the familiar bar and nervously looks around for any new faces. He hated the term 'the prowl' and so had told himself and their bartender friend 'Lou' that he wasn't purposely looking but if any interesting women were to come in, send a note in his direction.

"Hey boys. What brings two of the city's finest here on a Thursday? Wordy, isn't it a school night?" The larger man teases.

"We're celebrating Lou," Wordy smiles over at Spike. "Actually Spike is."

"Yeah? What did the boy wonder do this time?"

"Hacked into the federal reserve," Wordy chuckles, forcing Spike to just roll his eyes and shake his head.

"The federal reserve huh," Lou smirks. "Next time couldya transfer a couplea million into my account. The wife wants a new roof."

"Yeah I'll see what I can do," Spike winks as they both sit down at the bar to await their first two beers. However, while their actions and somewhat loud conversation was lost on most around them, two people's attentions were quickly diverted toward them.

"So what are you really celebrating?" Lou asks in a softer tone, knowing that Wordy was just joking about the federal reserve.

"Just a work thing. No biggie," Spike shrugs, never one to brag about any of his technological accomplishments. One of the 'fake' hacking exercises was to see who could get past a series of clever traps and into a special training room in the federal reserve. Spike was the first to accomplish the task; the real code for the federal reserve of course being, at least to date, unbreakable.

"You know I envy what you and Ed have."

"Spike… we're not gay," Wordy teases as he takes a swig of his beer. Spike laughs and just nods as he too takes a swig.

"I just wish I had that. What you guys do. Someone…ah never mind."

"You'll have your own family one day," Wordy's tone turns a bit serious as he qualifies Spike's comment.

"A loving wife and a great set of kids. You think so?"

"Yeah I do. But it's been a lot of hard work and sacrifices and yes as Ed will attest to, sometimes ultimatums."

"But despite all that is it worth it?"

"Spike…"

"Is it?" Spike repeats.

"Every second of every day," Wordy answers in truth. "It's what keeps both of us sane and on the straight and narrow."

"I wish I had that. I go home to arguing, bickering and tension. I mean my dad is on death's door and still all he can do is argue about my work and then give me the silent treatment. I feel like a bad teenager who's wrecked his dads car most nights of the week. I'm his only son, you'd think that would count for something."

Wordy listens to his friends anguished confession. Spike had faced a lot of personal trauma on the job so far, more so than most, except maybe Greg. He had lost one of his closest friends to a bomb and then his friend and mentor to a drug sting shootout gone bad. And instead of going home to a loving supportive family, he went home to arguments and tension; nothing to ease his stress-ridden conscience at the end of the day.

"You know Shelly has this friend. She's a recent divorcee, no kids and…"

"Thanks but um…I'm okay."

"Alright but she's a nice girl and…"

"Girl?" Spike arches his brows.

"Woman," Wordy just rolls his eyes. "Just tell me you'll think about it for longer than two seconds or asking your mother's approval."

"Funny," Spike answers dryly.

"Alright so speaking of women, what are you looking for?" Wordy asks seriously.

"I um…" Spike pauses with a small laugh as an attractive woman slowly walks up to the bar and sits down a few seats over. She gives her shoulder length dark red locks a small flip over her left shoulder, giving Spike a coy smile and then quickly looking away.

"Her," he turns back to Wordy with a shy grin of his own.

Wordy looks past Spike, eyeing the attractive woman for a few seconds and then turning back to his friend. "For a one night stand?"

"Not um…really? One night only?"

"You know what…go for it. You're here to celebrate right," Wordy nods at Spike, not realizing that he was innocently pushing his friend into unwitting danger that would soon have his very life on the line.

"And what about you?"

"I don't do threesoms," Wordy winks and Spike just smirks before he looks over at the woman who was looking at him once more and then offers a small mouthed 'hello'. "Just go for it," Wordy nudges.

"I um…I can't. She looks…"

"Out of your league? Trust me Spike she's…well she's coming over right now."

"What?" Spike asks in haste as he turns to see the attractive woman near them. "Okay…um, hello."

"Hi there," she smiles as she sits down beside Spike. "You alone?"

"Yes he is," Wordy pipes up. "I was just askin' him the time. Thanks again. See you tomorrow," he whispers into Spike's ear as he stands up to leave. "You owe me," he adds just before he heads toward the entrance doors, slapping down a couple of bucks onto the top of the bar table and steps outside into the cool night air, smiling at the thought that maybe his friend's bad luck at meeting girls had finally run out.

"I'm Spike."

"Spike? Does that mean something in particular stands…upright?" She teases and Spike's face instantly flushes.

"No it's um…it was my…my hair…well before," Spike stammers as she moves in a little closer.

"I'm Chloe. And the real reason I came over here was to ask you for your help."

"My…help?" Spike inquires as he feels his happiness starting to deflate. "Help with what?"

"My phone," she opens her palm and shows him her phone. "I saw you had the same one and…"

"Oh yours is last years. Mine is…"

"Bigger. I see…well you know size does matter. What else do you have that's...bigger," she openly flirts as moves in a little closer, her skin forcing the right side of his face to warm further. Spike's mind races as his face flushes but his brain cannot seem to send his lips anything inteligible at the moment to reply with. So it was back to the task at hand. Help.

"What did you um need help with?" Spike asks nervously, praying for his heart rate to slow long enough for him to speak a normal sentence.

"With this. See it…I am trying to get this app to open and…"

"Yeah hold on…see if you do this…" Spike starts to instruct as she moves in even closer, her lips almost brushing his face. "And then…" he turns to face her, his lips brushing hers before he pulls back slightly. "Oh sorry."

"Don't be…you smell good," she smiles. "Thanks for the help. What can I reply you with?"

"Re-pay? Oh….nothing I didn't mind," Spike blushes. "I had the same problem myself when I first picked it up. Want another…what are you drinking?"

"Want to share something?"

"Sure. What do you want?"

"From you? I would like sex, bang and blow," she answers with a smile as her foot brushes up his leg.

Spike nearly coughs up his last mouthful of beer, making the woman named Chloe beside him giggle and Lou just shake his head.

"Pardon?"

"Bartender?" Chloe smiles at Lou.

"Spike you gotta get out more. One SBB comin' up ma'am."

"That's a drink name?" Spike asks in shock.

"You'd prefer the real thing?" She leans in closer, her lips brushing the side of his face, leaving a faint stain of lipstick on his smooth olive toned skin. "That I can arrange also."

"Sure but...uh...what's um…in it?" Spike asks weakly, his temperature soaring and his heart racing at top speed.

"It's a blended drink and I guarantee you'll like it. And then…maybe the real thing," her lips linger near his ear. "Think you'd be up…for that?" She softly flirts once more.

"Oh I…think so," Spike swallows hard and nods, begging his overheated brain to be able to offer at least once coherent sentence before the night was through. "So what do you do for work?"

"I'm a flight attendant; I live in Vancouver. I…well I don't want to talk about my family. They're um…well kinda…oh never mind you'd never understand."

"I might."

"My mother is well…sick. Early Alzheimer's and my father doesn't like that I am away from home so much as it's so hard for him to deal with. So when I'm home," she pauses with a heavy sigh. "It's endless arguments about my job and…yeah okay so sob story huh."

"Actually my family is very similar. My dad has cancer and my mom…well she worries about what I do so I guess I go home to pretty much the same thing," Spike eagerly confesses, so happy to have such a beautiful woman so attentively hanging on his every word as if she actually understood his emotional anguish.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Same here about your mom," Spike gives her a sympathetic nod.

"Thanks. And what do you do for work?"

"I work for the um…the SRU."

"And that is…"

"Oh right, strategic response unit. Bombs and electronics exp…"

"Bombs? Oh wow you must be brave," she states as she gives him a mock horrified expression. "I would love to hear all about what you do. Maybe you can diffuse my bomb," she flirts again.

"Here is your Sex, bang and blow. Two straws," Lou hands them the blended drink; interrupting before Spike can cough up another flushed stammer. "Go easy on him," Lou nods to the woman, forcing Spike's face to warm further.

"So we need something to toast. Are you um…celebrating anything special?"

"Yeah, kinda," Spike answers with a small smile. "But it's work related."

"What did you do?"

"Ah just computer stuff, nothing really that...major," Spike replies, not knowing that she had already heard his earlier conversation with Wordy and also knowing that he wasn't allowed to discuss certain things with outsiders.

"Alright and I just flew my one hundredth flight. Not many but I am working my way up there so here's to us and career milestones," she leans in, nearing his lips. The two of them finish the very generous libation, Spike's cautiousness lowering more and more until after a few more drinks and very little food, all it took was one innocent suggestion.

"Since I doubt you'd want to go and rattle the floorboards at home, what say we head back to my hotel room and you can show me what else on you is spiky," she purrs in his ear, her lips teasing his sensitive lobe with a lingering kiss, forcing his body to tingle all the way to his feet.

"Just lead the way," Spike turns to her, this time their lips meeting for a few brief seconds, but signaling to the 'guy' part of his brain that he was making the right move.

However, just as they walked out of the door, Chloe wrapping her arm around his waist, Spike was unaware of the set of narrowed eyes watching him intently; a devious plan already hatching of which he was about to become an unwitting pawn in that would have his very life at stake.

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><p><strong>AN:** okay so what did you think so far? What does this couple have in mind for our boy Spike? And how will he fall into their trap? Please let me know as your feedback will help me determine the length (I don't want anyone getting bored) :D Thanks in advance!

**PS:** Oh yeah and that SBB is an actual drink :D


	2. Setting the Trap

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 2 – Setting the Trap**

**A/N: **Hey thanks everyone for the great feedback so far. I hope you all continue to like the updates :D

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><p>Spike awakes early the next morning, his naked body slightly stretching but his brain reminding him that he wasn't alone. He looks over at Chloe's sleeping form and smiles; his brain quickly replaying the amazing events from the night before. They had made love more than once and in a few places besides the bed. If it was to only be a one night stand then it was one of the best night's of his adult life so far. Chloe was amazing and she made him feel like he was the most experienced lover in the world, which of course he wasn't even close.<p>

"Good morning," Chloe looks up at Spike with a small smile. She moves herself up a bit higher, her hair resting on his smooth chest, her fingers softly playing with his firm skin, trailing lower to the small swirls of hair just below his belly button and then moving lower, forcing Spike's stomach to automatically such in and his lips utter a very contented sigh.

"Uh good…morning," Spike manages with another small gasp as her fingers continue to tease his most sensitive area. "That feels…"

"Shh just relax," she soothes, as her lips tease his cheek.

"I would but um…oh god…" he groans as her fingers continue their pleasurable torment. "Hafta get to…to work," he gasps once more.

"Yeah me too…just a bit longer okay?"

"S-sure," Spike answers in haste, bringing a small laugh to Chloe's lips. Their early morning sexual romp quickly wraps up, allowing Spike to finally dress, glancing at his watch and knowing he'll have to shower and eat at work.

"So…will I see you again?" Chloe asks as she walks Spike to the door of her hotel room.

"I'd like that," he turns to her with a warm smile. "But um…"

"Right your parents," she gives him a sympathetic smile. "You don't have to work tomorrow do you? I mean its Saturday and you guys do have a day off right?"

"Supposedly. But if we get a call…"

"Well I am in town for a few more days. So here is my idea. You get a call but can't take it because you are sick and how about we spend the whole day…doing what we did last night."

"Sick?" Spike slightly stammers. "I don't um…take sick days," Spike answers with a small frown. "I can't."

"Mmm a goody goody eh? I like it even more," she leans in closer to kiss him once more. "Okay how about you tell them you are taking the day off."

"I'll…oh I don't have your number."

"Yet," she grins as she takes his phone and punches in her number and then hands it back. "See you tonight."

"Tonight? I might be late and…yeah I might be late," Spike tells her in truth.

"I'll wait up."

"Really?" He asks as a smile lights up his face.

"Only if you'll come by."

"I'll be here."

XXXXXXXX

Spike hurries toward the lockers, wanting to have a quick shower and then grab a quick bite before the first call came in. He had called his mother and as usual had to turn a deaf ear to her reprimand and then said to tell his father he was okay and hung up before she could tell him that a normal job wouldn't have so many personal demands.

"Just once," Spike sighs to himself giving his head a shake as he exits the showers and rushes for his locker.

"Whoa there," Wordy smiles as he grabs Spike by the arm and turns him around. "So I see you survived last night."

"Yeah Chloe was…"

"Chloe? What other personal things did you learn about her last night," Wordy retorts with a grin. "So details?"

"Can I uh…get breakfast first?"

"No time for breakfast either?" Wordy looks at him in amusement. "Now I really want the details. And don't leave out the good stuff."

"We ah…it was pretty amazing. Chloe was pretty amazing. She was…wow," Spike rattles off as he and Wordy head for the small lunchroom where a vending machine was waiting with Spike's name on it. "And she gets my home situation."

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Her mother is sick and…" Spike's voice trails off as he goes on to explain all about his night, leaving out of course the majorly sexual details.

"Well it sounds like she's perfect."

"Too perfect?"

"Spike she sounds great."

"But she lives in um…Vancouver," Spike tells his friend with a slight sigh. "So I'm screwed right?" He asks rhetorically with a small smirk.

"Ah take it a day at a time," Wordy pats his back as they round the corner. "Yeah I know…it never works as well as it sounds."

"So I should take it easy then?"

"Spike. It's not my place to say one way or another. You seem more than excited and I..."

"What?"

"Just hope she's as excited about all this as you. I mean it was one night and already you are thinking long term."

"I think she is. She opened up a lot last night."

"Well alright then. Enjoy it Spike for what it is."

"Meaning?"

Wordy looks at the innocent expression on his friends inexperienced face and smiles. It was no secret that Spike that more luck with electronic gadgets and bombs than he did in the dating world; always too nervous to make it past a really good first impression. His friends all knew he had so much to offer, but it wasn't up to them to make that known to any member of the opposite sex - Spike had to do that on his own.

"If it's one weekend then have one hell of a weekend. Just don't over think anything right now."

"So go for it?" Spike asks with a smile.

"Go for it," Wordy pats his friend on the back. "But…after work."

Spike only offers his friend a small sideways smile as he quickly downs his breakfast bar and then joins the rest of his team in the briefing room. His brain was waging a small war between listening to some briefing notes and telling him that Chloe was the perfect match and not to let her get away. _Go for it! _Wordy's words ring in his head. Halfway during the briefing his phone buzzes and automatically a smile forms; his smile growing even wider as he sneaks a peak at his phone.

_'Hey handsome…do you remember our second time when we did it in the…..let's do that again as soon as you walk through that door. Chloe'_

"Spike…this work stuff boring you?" Greg's voice forces all eyes on him.

"Ah no boss…it was ah um…wrong text but it um…" he stammers once more. "No boss."

"He didn't have his Wheaties for breakfast," Wordy gives his friend a small punch on the shoulder.

"Okay team next time let's all make sure Spike has his Wheaties for breakfast so that he can concentrate on the boring work stuff," Greg smirks as Spike is forced to endure some fun teasing at his expense. The rest of the briefing goes as planned just after Greg dismisses them he calls Spike back. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah that was just…boss it was nothing, I swear it…" Spike tries to answer, his lips trying to downplay his enthusiasm at seeing Chloe again.

"And by that cryptic smile I'd say…new girl?"

"Met her last night," Spike answers with a wide grin. "She's um…she's pretty amazing. We started with a few drinks and then…we went back to her hotel room and…"

"Spike."

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to give me all the details."

"Oh right of course."

"And the text I'm guessing was from her?"

"Boss I'm sorry about that it just…well surprised me and…yeah I have never gotten an email like that before...well not at work."

"Spike, I'm not mad. But if you had taken that text on a call and allowed it to put any of the team in jeopardy then I would be. But of course I know you never would, would you."

"Never," Spike's smile slightly fades as he quickly nods in agreement.

"Does she at least have a name?"

"Chloe. She's a flight attendant and lives in Vancouver and…right too much info," Spike pauses with a small smirk. "Just feels go you know…to finally meet someone…well like me."

"Like you? Explain."

"Her mom is sick and her dad worries about her work and doesn't like it. Her older sister was killed in a plane crash so they worry about her and I guess much like me she goes home to a lot of arguments. At least she has her own place."

"Well I'm glad you connected with someone like that. Speaking of being on your own, you could always get your own apartment," Greg suggests cautiously.

"I know and I've um…thought about it but…well maybe later."

"Later," Greg nods, noticing Spike's frame instantly tense and his tone get terse.

"Yeah just gotta wait and see...boss my dad..."

"Hey Spike, you don't have to explain."

"But it's kind of a drag not to be able to take a girl back to your place, right? Makes me seem...well...lame?"

"First off, if she's worth her salt, as you say she is, she'll understand. Besides, you just met her right?"

"Right," Spike agrees with a small smile.

"Okay so how about we take that call and…"

"Boss about tomorrow. I know we are on call but…"

"But Chloe wants you to take the day off?" Greg finishes his very thought.

"She does."

"Spike, if we get a call...work comes first."

"Right, I'll be there."

"Spike…"

"I'll be there," Spike promises. "I mean we only just met right?"

"And hey maybe the badguys will take a day off," Greg smiles as he pats Spike on the back.

"Yeah maybe."

"Next weekend Team Three is on call. You'll have the whole weekend to yourself to do…whatever."

"That sounds pretty great actually."

"Alright let's get ready."

Greg gives Spike a nod and then watches him leave, happy that the younger man has finally met someone to make him offer a genuine smile. Spike heads into the dressing room to gather the rest of his SRU gear, his mind still thinking about the text that Chloe had sent him. This weekend they were on call and it wouldn't be fair to the other team members, especially Wordy or Ed who both had major family responsibilities to call in sick when they'd have to work or call in someone from another team to cover the shift he rightfully should. He thought about the trip to Vancouver and if that was too forward. But the worst she could say is no and he was used to hearing no. Why not a trip? He hadn't been out west in years and this seemed like the perfect excuse. Maybe it could work his brain started to ponder.

"Hey Spike, let's roll!" Sam calls out.

"Yeah coming," Spike calls back as he looks at Chloe's text once more. "Maybe this is the one," he whispers to himself as he closes his locker and hurries to find the rest of his team.

XXXXXXXX

_"How much time do we have?"_

_"We are good."_

_"And you're sure this is the right one?"_

_"Yes. Michelangelo Scarlatti, bomb and electronics expert. Our window starts tomorrow and then the countdown will be on. Is he working tomorrow?"_

_"Said he'd take the day off. So we are fine. His team will never know he's missing until it's too late." _

_"Good work. We'll take him tonight."_

XXXXXXXX

The day went as expected, it was a tense hostage standoff at the bank but one that thankfully ended in peace with the hostage taker finally being apprehended and everyone inside the bank, including the injured security guard and a woman about to go into labour. But for Spike he couldn't wait until the boss had signed off on all the paperwork, including his statement; rushing to his lockers to get ready to go home and then to go and see Chloe.

"So you want to join us at O'Leary's?" Wordy asks Spike as they finish getting dressed at the end of the day. "It's still early. Or do you…"

"I'm going home."

"Home?" Wordy looks at him in surprise.

"Yeah to get some clean clothes and then I'm meeting Chloe at her um…hotel."

"Okay but after this weekend I want all the x-rate details."

"X-rated?" Spike arches his brows as his face turns a bit serious and Wordy just laughs.

"Have you told your mom?"

"No. I just said that I had to pull an all-nighter. But I know I'll have to tell her tonight. I'm sure she'll be happy for me," Spike offers a weak smile. "I mean it's a girl right and not work? And then if all goes well tonight I was thinking of asking her what she um...well what she thought about me coming to see her...in Vancouver."

"Vancouver?"

"Well I know long distance is tough but...but I'm sure she'll agree and...what?"

"Spike, I want you to be happy, I really do and seeing you so happy...well makes me happy for you. But I do hope it's also what she wants. I know she seems perfect...really perfect for you but..."

"I promise I won't offer her my hidden millions," Spike teases but as he looks at the tender concern on his friend's face his own expression turns serious to mirror that. "Wordy I have been waiting for a girl like Chloe to..."

"Yeah come along and be the perfect match, I know you've said that before. I really hope she is, but why not wait a few more days to see what she really wants and then mention the trip. I mean you don't want to scare her off either right?"

"Coming on too strong?"

"I..." Wordy stops, analyzing his friend's face and then smiling. "Spike, just enjoy your weekend with her."

"And if she breaks my heart?"

"Just go and enjoy and don't worry about anything. No one ever died from a broken heart. The rest of us have been there and we are still here today. You'll be fine."

But before either one of them can say another word, Spike's phone texts to life and he reaches for it in an instant.

"From Chloe?" Wordy asks, not really expecting an answer as Spike's instant smile was his answer enough.

_'I'm in the bathtub wearing only bubbles. Where are you? Chloe.'_

"Yeah she um…she's waiting for me. Look I gotta run. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight."

"Yeah…goodnight," Wordy offers as he watches Spike leave; Ed walking up to him.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Uh...nothing," Wordy turns back to his locker.

"I know that look. What's up?" Ed asks his close friend and partner, forcing Wordy to turn back to face him.

"Just…you know what?" Wordy turns to Ed with a smile. "It's not my business right?"

"But…"

"But I guess from experience if something seems too good to be true…"

"It usually is," Ed finishes for him. "Spike's new girl?"

"I just hope she's not just scr…using him for the weekend? You know strining him along for only a good time."

"Look I know we all father Spike, but he has to learn sometime right?" Ed retorts with a small frown.

"Right. And besides it won't kill him," Wordy replies with a small uneasy feeling inside.

"Exactly. Come on…rest of the team is waiting."

"Right," Wordy gives Ed a nod and then closes his locker doors, giving Spike's one last glance before he follows Ed. Inside his mind he does hope that this girl is all she appears to be, but fears that this weekend will be the last for his friend and he'll have his heart broken by a woman looking for a fun, no strings attached weekend.

XXXXXXXX

"Ma I gotta run okay?"

"Another all-nighter? And you wonder why your father…"

"Alright fine," Spike sighs as he lingers in the kitchen at home, facing his mother with a heavy frown. "I met a girl and her name is Chloe. She's from Vancouver and I'm…having dinner with her tonight."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Goodnight ma," Spike leans in and gives his mother a quick peck on the cheek and then heads for the door. He hadn't spent much time when he came home, just showered, added a splash of fresh cologne, put on his dark jeans and a black shirt, grabbed his jacket and was gone.

As much as he didn't want to overanalyze how this was starting out, the drive over was spent trying to tell himself that maybe asking Chloe to come and visit her wasn't a good idea. But then he did have next weekend free and it was either sit around the house listening to two people argue about a future that he wasn't going to take or fly out to an amazing city and get to know a little better an even more amazing girl. The latter won out. Feelings be damned.

Spike arrives at the hotel, heading for the concierge to ask for the spare key as Chloe had instructed, walking toward the elevator at a pace faster than normal. His lips offer a small happy but nervous whistle, his palms starting to get a bit sweaty. He had only casually dated up until now, most women being either turned off in the long run by his high risk job or were wanting a man with his fun loving personality but a lot more money to have that fun with. Chloe seemed well…perfect.

Spike slowly slips the electronic key card into the door slot and slowly pushes the door open. "Chloe?" He calls out softly as he enters the dimly lit room, his senses automatically hit with the tempting aroma of warm chocolate and vanilla.

"There you are," she walks up to him, wearing only a bathrobe that was partially open in the front, instantly tempting both his body and brain. "I missed you," she whispers as she drapes her arms around his neck and draws his mouth to hers. The kiss lingers for what seems like an eternity until they both break apart, Spike rewarding her with a warm smile.

"So you wanna go downstairs for supper?"

"How about we get naked and order in," she offers with a wide teasing smile, deliberately pulling his arms from his black leather jacket.

"Sure…yeah that'll work," Spike agrees in haste. "You're amazing, you know that right?"

"I know it," she teases, making him just smile once again. "And then you can tell me all about your day."

"You know speaking of work…I was thinking that maybe…well only if you'd like…"

"Spike, just ask," Chloe smiles as his nervousness.

"I have a totally free weekend next weekend and could um…well fly to Vancouver and…spend the weekend. You know getting to know you better. That is if you want?" Spike finishes, his heart racing so fast as he awaits her response.

"I think that…is a wonderful idea," she whispers in his ear.

"You do?"

"I do. Enough talk about me…you need to let me help you unwind as you tell me about your harrowing day."

But talk would have to wait for as soon as Spike's shirt was off, their lips were locked once more, their bodies slowly becoming one.

"Wow that sounds so…so scary and tense," Chloe states as she lies in Spike's bare arms sometime later.

"All in a day's work," Spike answers with a small smirk. Just as he was about to say another word, his stomach growls, drawing Chloe's wondering glace to his and both of them chuckle.

"Okay let me order in supper. Can I surprise you?"

"Sure," he answers eagerly. He watches Chloe wrap herself with one of the sheets, get off the bed and head for the phone and then the bathroom. Spike, quickly grabs his phone and plugs in next weekend in Vancouver into his calendar and places his phone back just as Chloe reenters.

"Hope you're hungry," she mentions as she rejoins him on the bed, her lips planting a soft kiss on his bare chest.

"I actually am. Do you like to cook?"

"Not really," she giggles. "Do you?"

"I can make a mean bowl of homemade pasta."

"My favorite," she snuggles in a bit closer. The whole time Spike spends telling her a bit more about his job, mostly stuff that would be on the news or open to the media; but also unable to resist telling her about some of his own personal achievements. A knock is finally heard and Spike reaches for the robe that was supplied for him just as Chloe opens the door and lets the room service waiter in.

"Smells good," Spike thanks the man that arranges his dinner plate.

"Oh trust me, it's like nothing you've had before," he gives Spike a sly smile as he steps back. "Enjoy. I'll be back later to collect _what's mine._"

"Alright, let's dig in."

Spike sits down at the small table, eager to dive into his supper as he hadn't eaten much since breakfast. However, half way into his meal, his head starts to get a little dizzy and his vision a bit blurry. Panic starts to take over and instantly he looks up at Chloe. No...it had to be the food.

"Chloe I..."

"Spike? You okay?" She inquires with a mock innocence, her tone nothing close to sincere.

"Yeah just…maybe I drank that too fast and…" he leans back as the room starts to spin. He turns back to Chloe who makes no attempt to help him, merely sitting in place with a calm look on her face. "I um…don't feel…well..."

"Aww poor Spike you want to lie down?"

"I…I should," Spike frowns as dark circles start to form. He stands up and turns, wanting to get to the bed and lie down.

"Everything is going to be fine."

_How does she know that?_ A small voice inside his head asks in haste. He eyes his phone on the left side of the bed and tries to make it. He had called Wordy last and left a brief message about something work related. If he could only press 'redial' as least he'd let his friend know something was up. Enough for a call back at least.

"Oh Spike...where are you going?" Chloe asks with a small laugh. "There is no where to go. Not any more," her tone turns cold.

Spike turns to her, his vision blurring further, small dark circles forming and his heart pounding so fast he was sure he was going into cardiac arrest. _Have to call Wordy! _His overheating brain tries to call out, muffled by the drugs that were now viciously assaulting every part of his body. He tries to turn back to the bed, but all he manages is one step before his falters and stumbles to his hands and knees, finally collapsing to the floor just as he hears the door being unlocked.

"Right on time. He's out."

"Good. We have work to do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So obviously Chloe isn't what she seems but what do they want Spike for and what happens when he fails to show up for a call? What will the team learn about Spike's new girl? And how will Wordy reacto to this when his friend doesn't show up? Please review and let me know your thoughts, hope everyone is still in character and thanks so much!


	3. Caught!

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 3 – Caught!**

* * *

><p>"Bout damn time Joe."<p>

_"Just get off my back already. Cops were called to something next door so I had to wait. I got the stuff. You guys can come anytime now."_

"Fine," Chloe finishes before she heads into the bathroom to put everything away that was out of place and to wipe away any prints.

Upon hearing the phone and soft talking, a soft groan escapes his lips as Spike tries to pull himself from his sleepy stupor. His mind flashes images of him arriving at the hotel room, having sex with Chloe before room service came and then a knock on the door and…nothing. He struggles to open his eyes and stretch out a bit more, his head pounding and stomach tight. But as soon as he opens his eyes he realizes that not everything is the way it should be.

Spike's warm brown eyes quickly open to find that he's still in the hotel room, on the bed and he's wearing his black boxers but his right wrist is handcuffed to the bed and he's alone. "So we did…" a small smile escapes his lips as he rubs his face with his free hand, mussing his already slightly spiky hair a bit more.

"Chloe?" Spike asks softly as he blinks some of the blur away a bit more and then squints at the clock before it comes into view. His mind tries to search back to the act of kinky sex but all he can muster is black fuzziness. If he did enjoy something a bit out of the ordinary, he was now at a loss to remember it.

"What…did we do…" He mumbles to himself with a smile, still looking around for the current object of his growing affection.

"Chloe? Hey I'm not goin' anywhere," Spike tries once more with a big smile, finally hearing some soft noises in the bathroom. He leans back on the bedframe and allows his eyes look around for the key, wanting to set himself free and join her. _Or I could just lay here and wait for her to come back and take advantage of me_, his mind playfully suggests. The latter wins out and Spike settles back on the bed to wait for his lovely captor to return. However, his ears pick up a door being opened but much to his shock it's the front door and not the bathroom, where he assumes Chloe is.

Spike watches with utter surprise and wonder as a strange man dressed all in black walk into the room and then shut the door behind him not paying him much heed.

"Hey uh…I think you have the wrong room," Spike mentions in haste, trying to grab the sheet to cover himself but being unsuccessful as it was out of reach.

"I'm in the right room."

"Excuse me then…who are you?"

However, the man simply ignores Spike and locks the door and then heads for the small table and starts to gather a few already wrapped items from the night before, carefully placing them into a duffle bag.

"Hey excuse me…Chloe!" Spike calls out a bit loudly, finally bringing the lone female into the picture.

"You're late," she looks right at the intruder and speaks firmly.

"Yeah well the damn cops showed up and we had to make the time."

"I know I got the call from Joe."

"You could have cleaned better," the man hisses at Chloe.

"I was busy."

"Yeah I'll bet. What did you do with your glass?" The man asks Chloe, ignoring Spike.

"It's here," she walks up to the strange man and hands it to him, her back to Spike.

Giving both of them a look of bewilderment, Spike pushes himself back up on the bed a bit more. "Yeah so I'm not really into threesomes," Spike mentions with a small smirk. But when he doesn't get anything but silence in return his agitation instantly skyrockets. "Okay so if I um…well don't get an answer I'm gonna start to pound on the wall."

"Actually you won't do that Mr. Scarlatti," the man states meanly as he turns to Spike with a readied weapon.

"What the…hey okay hold on here…" Spike stammers as he looks from the man to Chloe, trying to raise his hands in defense. "What do you want?"

"Actually I'm in charge here Mr. Scarlatti not you."

"He prefers Spike."

"Very well, Spike. You pound on that wall and this silenced weapon will put a hole that is non-life threatening into your very vulnerable body enough to make my point. Do you understand? Good. Now we won't be long."

"Can you at least tell me…"

"I am warning you Spike," the man retorts with a narrowed gaze. "You are not Greg Parker, you are a tech geek so don't even think about trying to negotiate your way out of this. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Do not piss me off again. Am I understood?"

Spike slightly frowns as he just stares at the man before trying once again in vain to reach for a sheet to cover himself with. Being only in his underwear in front of the strange man was starting to unnerve him. _Not Greg Parker. _Was this a team vendetta? He knew his name...what else did he know? And what did he and Chloe want? She wasn't putting up a fight so that meant she was invovled. That thought made his heart sink instantly but his brain race.

"Put that away, he's not going anywhere," Chloe assures the strange man who finally lowers his weapon and goes back about his other duties.

_Not going anywhere! _Spike's now panicked mind replay's over and over. "Chloe?"

"Good morning Spike," she finally turns to him with a smile as she slowly walks toward the bed and then sits down beside him, her fingers instantly drawn to the smooth olive toned skin of his bare chest.

"Chloe what's going on? Why am I handcuffed and who is that man?" Spike asks as he rattles the handcuff attached to his right wrist as he tries unsuccessfully to squirm away from her advancing touch.

"You'll find out in a bit Spike."

"Find out what. What is going on? If this is a robbery I have nothing…you know that. Why is he cleaning?"

"Mmm just sit back and relax okay? I think you're so sexy like this…" Chloe winks and Spike just stares at her in shock.

"Chloe…are you serious?" Spike asks in shock.

"Haven't you had enough my dear?" The man snaps, his side still to them as he finishes cleaning away certain dishes.

"Obviously I haven't," she replies scornfully and then turns back to Spike.

"Chloe…what's going on? Who is that man and why is he…damn it what's going on?" Spike asks, slightly flustered but overly frustrated; his voice raising.

"Keep your voice down," the man hisses, "or I'll really silence you."

"Will you stop waving that damn gun around?"

"Why? Because I might do this…" the man fires off a shot that just grazes Spike's bare thigh forcing him to utter an instant yelp and the man to rush up to him in anger.

"Ahhh oh god…" Spike stammers as searing heat sizzles his bare thigh.

"I warned once…next time I will shatter your knee cap. Understand?" The man growls as he leans over Spike with an angry sneer.

Spike looks up and offers a small nod, his teeth clenched and his left hand now applying pressure to his wounded right thigh.

"You idiot you got blood on everything."

"Clean…it up…" the man looks at Chloe in heated rage. "Do it now or you'll have other things to worry about."

"Fine," Chloe snaps as she hurries into the bathroom and then back to Spike. The graze wasn't very big and the band aide she had wasn't going to be effective but it made its point. These people, whoever they were, meant business. Serious business. But what did they want from him?

"Just relax okay?" Chloe looks up with a small frown.

What was he to say? Did she honestly expect him now not to try to look for an escape route or fight back at any cost? He wasn't just a passive bystander, he had to focus and try to use his training. But as much as he tries telling himself to keep his panic down he now starts to develope that sick feeing inside his own stomach the same as how those hostages must feel when he's trying to help save them; he was now one of them. Only problem was, his team wasn't on the way to rescue him from this burgeoning nightmare, they didn't even know he was in trouble. He had to act fast and think smart. How could he warn them? Or at least alert them or someone to his whereabouts. He had to try; he'd have to push through the pain and try, it was expected of him and it now meant his life. He couldn't just sit by and do nothing.

"Can I use the bathroom?"

"Shut up already," the strange man snaps at Spike.

"Shhh," Chloe's fingers rest on Spike's flushed lips. "Just keep your voice down Spike and everything will be fine. I'm almost done here."

"Keep my voice down? Chloe he shot me and I'm…" he gently jerks his arm, "handcuffed to the bed. I think I have earned the right to know."

"Very soon all your questions will be answered."

"Please Chloe," Spike half begs. "Tell me you aren't…what's he doing?" Spike inquires as he jerks his head free of her touch and looks up as the man produces a bottle of ammonia and starts to wipe down certain areas.

"Her job of cleaning if you must know Spike. Seriously they really need to teach you guys to listen better. Now shut it!"

As his panic skyrockets, Spike quickly realizes that the man is taking away anything that might have usable fingerprints on it or anything that can ID himself or Chloe. He looks at Chloe but she only smiles, forcing his frustration to boil.

"You liked this last night Spike," Chloe tries to touch him once more, frowning when he tries in vain to pull away from her once more.

"Last night I wasn't like this," Spike answers sourly. Despite the cut being cleaned and crudely bandaged, this thigh was throbbing and heart racing. Chloe's touches were doing nothing to soothe his frantic mind.

"Oh damn it, will you stop fondling him!"

"Well maybe if you could offer me what he did," Chloe turns back to Spike with a warm smile. "I would stop. But he's too tempting like this."

"I can change that…with this. Would you still like him if he couldn't walk. I can arrange that right...now," the man holds up the gun and aims it at Spike's forehead. Spike's whole body instantly tenses, his throat trying to swallow down his rising panic. He tells himself that he must not show fear and calmly try to figure out firstly what they really want from him and secondly a way out or a way to call his team. Neither was going to be easy.

"Put that damn thing away and just finish your damn job," she snaps.

"Don't push me!" The man snaps at Chloe and then turns back to finish his task.

Spike's mind races with thoughts about what these two were really after as Chloe turns back to him with a small wink. Her fingers rest on the black waistband of his tight black underwear but instead of allowing himself to enjoy the sexual arousal, he tries to pull himself away from her touch. The handcuff, however, didn't allow that, only kept him in place as her prisoner.

"Aww don't be that way Spike, I know you like my touch."

"Not any more. What is going on?" Spike asks in haste, his brain trying to keep the sounds of desperation from coming to the fore in his tone. "Please?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Chloe kisses the top of his nose and then pulls back. "Just be a good boy and sit there and relax while we finish up…or else," she tells him in a tone that had instantly gone cold.

_Like hell, _Spike's racing mind protests inwardly. As soon as Chloe was off the bed, his eyes quickly search for his phone, finally eyeing it on the other side of the bed, the side he had supposedly slept on the night before. He waits a few seconds to make sure that they were both involved in their discussion before he rolls onto his back and tries to reach for his phone.

_Come on…just a bit more…please…_he frantically urges his brain just as the tips of his fingers reach it. He fumbles a bit, his heart racing and face flushed but finally his fingers grasp the phone just as Chloe and the strange man turn back to face him.

"Get him!"

"Spike!" She growls as he quickly pushes redial, remembering that it was Wordy's cell. But both the man and Chloe converge on him in seconds, the man snatching the phone and pressing the end button before the call can connect, or so they think; Chloe wrestling with his free arm.

"Not a wise move Spike," the man looks at him in anger before placing his phone on the floor and stomping on it with his heel busting it.

"HEL…" Spike tries to call out before the man's large hands grab him, one wrapping around his neck and the other covering his mouth to keep him quiet. With one hand cuffed to the bed, Spike was at the disadvantage, using his free arm to try to pull the man's arm away from his neck so he could breathe properly.

"Bring the needle," the man directs Chloe as Spike continues to struggle in vain. "Don't worry Spike you aren't going to die – just yet. You are worth a lot of money to us. But you didn't listen and now you'll face your first consequence."

_Money? What? No! I have no money…I'm not rich! You have the wrong man!_

Spike's words only come out garbled as he tries to speak into the man's hand, desperately trying to tell them he wasn't rich and his family had no money to pay for his release; they had the wrong man if this was indeed a robbery. But all that escaped were muffled groans, his mind a mad panic between escape and wonder. He watches Chloe nearing with the needle and tries once again in vain to pull himself away, the handcuff of course sealing his ultimate demise. Spike's lips offer an instant groan as his side sustains a hit from his captor, forcing his struggling half naked frame to slightly falter in his captor's grasp.

The man's hand finally leaves Spike's mouth long enough for him to ask Chloe one important question. "Who…are you?" He lightly wheezes as the man's arm still remains wrapped around his neck.

"Not who you think," Chloe answers matter of factly before she plunges the needle into Spike's red and chaffed neck and then leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "But…it wasn't all pretend," is all he hears before the drugs render him unconscious once again.

"Annabelle, he has the day off right?"

"Yes David, unless he gets a call."

"Well you better pray that doesn't happen," David snaps at her as she undoes the handcuff, merely allowing Spike's unmoving arm to fall limply to the bed at his side. "I'll let you tend to him – for the last time," David looks down at Spike and frowns before rolling him onto his side and giving his vulnerable stomach a hard punch. "That's…for sleeping with him and enjoying it."

Annabelle just rolls her eyes as she heads for Spike's clothes. "You should have watched and got some pointers."

"Don't push me! He's a boy and you better not have gotten soft because of that boy," David snarls as he grabs her by the arm and turns her to face him. "Remember the deal. We have eight hours to get out of the country, get our money and then get rid of him. Time has already started, you know that."

"Yeah…I know that," she growls back as she yanks her arm free. "And I haven't gotten soft. I want my damn money and I want out of this god forsaken country. I'll let you do the dirty work."

"Fine. We'll pick up the plane tickets after Spike gets us what we need. Now hurry up," David urges with an angry edge in his voice as he watches Annabelle heading for the bed. She grabs Spike's clothes and then turns to look at David. "What?"

"Nothing. Just hurry up," he directs with a narrowed gaze.

Annabelle looks down at Spike's peaceful expression and smiles in spite of the situation. But in reality, to her he was a nothing more than a number, a ticket out of hell, a means to an end, an opportunity. And once he had done what they were asking, or if he wasn't able, his value would be gone and his life would be over. Her fingers slightly run through his thick chocolate brown mussed hair, her mind flashing images of their night together.

_'You are the most amazing woman Chloe,' _Spike had told her. Her steely grey eyes drift in David's direction and then back to Spike. It had been a long time since any man had made her feel as wonderful as Spike had the past two nights and something deep inside was begging that his life be spared and she remember what being adored and desired was really like. But the other part, the rational part of her brain that finally won the battle, starts to cloud over the emotional side, reminding her he was a job and this is what she did; leaving a wake of dead men behind her after they had outlived their usefulness.

"Oh damn your sentimentality already," David huffs as he snatches Spike's jeans from her grasp. "Go and get ready to go and I'll get him dressed and ready for transport."

"Fine," Annabelle answers with a glare before she pushes past David and heads into the bathroom

"Yeah like you were special," David sneers down at Spike as he roughly pulls on his jeans and then his black pullover shirt. He leaves Spike on the bed and eyes something in the corner; a wheelchair. He fetches it and then arranges Spike's still unconscious frame onto the wheelchair securing the chest and wrist straps and then goes in search of Annabelle.

"Does Joe have everything arranged for us?"

"Yes. He said his computer stuff will rival any NSA or CIA…stuff."

"Well this _stuff_…better get us our money, or Joe will end up with Spike's fate sooner rather than later. Now let's go. A quick stop at Joe's, get our money and get on that plane. Just the _two_ of us."

"Where do we dump him?"

"In the river."

XXXXXXXX

"Kevin what is it?" Shelly asks her husband early Saturday morning.

"It was…Spike," Wordy groans as he slowly rubs his eyes and looks at his phone. _'1 missed call.' _But it had only rung once and then disconnected.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah no message…probably a mis-dial," he frowns as he places the phone back on his bedside table and turns to his wife. "I'm sure everything is fine."

"Okay," Shelly replies, studying the small look of concern on her husband's face. She had been with him long enough to know when he was hiding something important from her so she wouldn't worry and when he was uncertain about something and unable to tell her what it was.

"What is it Kev?"

"Nothing."

"Did you want to call him?"

"Nah...I...I'm sure it's nothing," Wordy tries to convince not only his wife but his worried mind as well. "I'll try later. He probably rolled over on the phone or something."

"Rolled over?"

"Yeah you know when they were doing this…he's a geek after all," he mentions warmly as he leans in and kisses her on the lips.

XXXXXXXX

The next time Spike opens his eyes, his situation had drastically changed but not for the better – in fact it was worse. He was in the back of a dark windowless van, strapped down by his wrists and chest to a wheelchair and gagged with a piece of heavy tape over his mouth. He looks around the dark slow moving van and feels his panic starting to rise as he finally looks forward to see Chloe and the other man in the front seat. Spike tries to squint past them, wanting to see where they were going but was unable, the seats blocked the view for the most part and all he could tell is they were still in the city but heading out of town.

He looks down at his trapped wrists and tries to move them, wincing when his already chaffed right wrist scrapes the hard fabric edge of the restraint and cursing in futility when he finds no room to move. Spike's mind races with new ideas to try to escape or at least draw attention to himself. If he tries to rock the wheelchair back and forth, it will either backfire and he'll be drugged again, which he didn't want or it would flip over, perhaps causing an accident and he could be injured or killed. Either scenario was grim but then so was his supposed fate wherever this van would come to a stop.

_Worth a lot of money to us. _This had to be a joke. He had no money and his family was far from rich. _This has to be mistaken identity. _His mind tries to convince himself over and over.

Aside from the warm throbbing in his right thigh, Spike feels a small twinge in his stomach and winces once more, his brain telling him that the strange man probably got a good punch or two in before he was dressed and strapped into this thing. Course he was drugged so it really didn't matter when it happened it just didn't bode well for what else he might still have to endure.

_Wordy I pray my call went through. _

Spike looks up, this time drawing the man in black's gaze in the rear view mirror and eliciting an evil smile that made Spike's spine tingle from fear and apprehension. He watches as the van pulls to the side curb and swallows hard, his heart rate instantly skyrocketing at the possibility that his end was closer than he thought.

"My dear take over, I'm going to have a little chat with our dear Spike," David smiles as he turns back and looks at Spike's helpless predicament.

"Remember we need him alive still."

"Don't tell me what to do Annabelle!" David snaps and then gets into the back, slowly inching toward Spike.

_Annabelle? _Spike feel's his mind and heart sink instantly. _What? _She had been playing me all along, his brain wonders in misery? David pulls up a small stool and sits down just as Annabelle starts up the van once more, heading toward the industrial district close to the airport.

"Yes Spike her name is Annabelle and I'm David. I will of course forgive you for not shaking hands," David smirks while Spike just rolls his eyes, but keeps his gaze forward. He tells himself that he won't show fear but when David pulls the gun and sticks it into his cheek and cocks the trigger, human nature takes over, pushing aside years of professional training and his frame offers up a small shiver of helpless fear.

"That's right I'm in charge. Not you….not your team…me."

_Please don't…oh god please don't shoot me…_ Spike tries to beg in futility, eliciting a small chuckle from his captor.

"Oh I'm not going to kill you just yet Spike," David leans in closer. "You are worth a lot of money to me," he whispers in his ear, the gun easing back from his face and coming to rest by David's side. "But I can make things very painful for you. So listen up…"

_I have no money…_Spike shakes his head, wanting to desperately tell his captors that they had the wrong man and that he didn't have the kind of money that people would want to kidnap him for.

"Right now you are probably wondering how much money? I think…fifty million? One hundred million? Or how about one billion?" David laughs and Spike's fear ceases, his expression changed to one of utter shock.

_What the hell..._

"Oh you don't have that kind of money right?"

_Right…I'm not rich, _Spike's head nod's furiously.

"Well then…if you _personally _don't have it…" David leans in, his fingers grasping the back of the top of Spike's hair, pulling his head back and painfully putting pressure on his neck. With his mouth covered by the thick tape, Spike's breathing starts to shallow and chest heave. "Then you'll just have to _get it_ for us."

_A robbery? I can't do that. Wait! _Actually that could work out for the best. If he was sent into a bank he could notify his team by a note or a text and…

"Computer hacking is what you do best right?" David qualifies his earlier statement and Spike's hopes immediately dissolve.

_What? No…not best…no no…oh no…_

It all made sense now, he had told Annabelle mostly everything he did for work, even bragging in his mostly drunken state how he was able to hack into secret government places, wanting to impress her.

"So here is my plan...listen very closely. You my dear Spike are going to hack into the Federal Reserve and get me…well whatever amount I want," David laughs as he brings the gun up to Spike's face once more and rests it against his flushed cheek. "And if you can't do that in my timeframe…then you will die."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay so how will the team discover that Spike is missing and what tactics can Spike use to stall? But what other plan does one of his captors have for the other and what will that mean for him? Hope you are all still liking the story and please review before you go.

**PS:** I hope you also all liked and please do review my latest eppy one shot called 'every second counts' Thanks in advance.


	4. The Countdown Starts…

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 4 – The Countdown Starts…**

**A/N:** Well I am sorry that I am losing some of you as readership and reviews have dropped. I do apologize for that but hope that those still reading like this update.

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><p>Spike gratefully swallows when David releases his grasp on his hair and his head is allowed to fall back into place. Trying to aks for anything through the effective gag was going to be useless; he had to think about trying to find a way send a message to the team. If they wanted him to try to hack into something he might be able to send out some kind of signal, if even for a few seconds to one of the team to try to alert them to his location.<p>

His brain stops long enough to look at Chloe…Chloe? The man called David said her name was Annabelle. Throughout most of his adult life he was known as fun loving, upbeat and the life of the party. But when it came to women he would usually stumble his way through a conversation, mentally beating himself up over what he should have said as soon as she would move on to someone else with a smooth set of lines. He had always tried to be himself and up front, why hide anything was his motto? But that usually bored women. But not Chloe. She seemed to understand right from the start.

But it was all a rouse and that's what hurt the most or was it the truth? He quickly curses the gag and hopes that he'll have at least a chance to ask her if everything she told him was a lie. So much for thinking his luck with women had run out; it was now worse than ever.

The van hits a small snag and his wrists instantly jolt in their restraints, snapping his mind back to reality and his grim situation. He had to get free. His mind could argue his dating woes later – but he had to be alive to be able to do that. Spike's eyes start to look around the van once more to see if there is anything that he can use to get himself free. But there was nothing. Until…

"Ah damn it. Detour. We'll have to take another route."

"Are they looking for us?" Annabelle asks in haste.

"No it looks like a routine stop for trucks before they go into the shipyards; probably looking for illegal immigrants or something. Let's go around."

_Police? _As much as he hated the idea of rocking the wheelchair onto its side, he'd rather face a bit of pain than the ultimate fate of death. The brakes were on and it was strapped to the floor but it was still able to move and perhaps even a bit of movement would cause the van to rock and draw the police's attention in their direction.

_Here goes…_Spike's mind readies himself, bracing his legs as best he can, his feet strapped down to the feet of the wheelchair. His hands grip the sides and he tries to throw all his weight onto his right side. A mandatory part of being on Team One was to keep active and fit and that meant trimming the body fat; however, that extra bowl of pasta would come in very handy right now. The locked wheels make a small scuffing sound as the chair tries to rock and then lands back in place.

Spike feels the van starting to slow and knows they'll be turning very soon, it was now or never. He throws his weight to the left and then to the right, the wheels shifting a bit more. However with the braces on and the chair locked in place all he did was draw Annabelle's narrowed gaze in his direction as a warning. Mustering up whatever look of defiance he could give her, Spike throws all his weight to the left, the chair moving about an inch.

"What's going on back there Spike?" David's annoyed tone calls out, prompting Spike to try to rock to the right once more. "Right...nice try."

But the van turns the corner and his hope of getting the attention of the police just passed with it. He was stuck. Really stuck and time was ticking. He needed something else.

_The Federal Reserve? _Spike forces his mind away from his useless escape attempt and then back to the illegal task they wanted him to complete. It was impossible and he was no code breaker. It was one of the best and most sophisticated security systems on the planet and for good reason, it held the country's monetary reserve. But it could also work, as soon as he tries to hack, he'll of course hit a firewall and hopefully trigger something that will track his IP address and send…his team? Maybe hope wasn't lost yet. All he could do at the time the security trigger was hacked was pray he could stall his kidnappers long enough for his team to find him. Or he could try to send them a personal message to one of their email accounts. He had to try something to alert them. If not, it really was game over.

XXXXXXXX

"Are you serious? Okay, yeah I'll be there," Wordy huffs as he looks up from the breakfast table, a doting daughter flanking either side.

"Kev seriously?" Shelly asks with a small sigh.

"Yeah sorry. Thankfully it's just a high priority jail transfer. I should be back for lunch," he tells her as he leans in for a kiss. "Just don't let the hot dogs get cold."

Wordy heads for his car, his hand reaching for his phone to dial Spike on the way in. Surely he had the call by now and Wordy tells himself he wouldn't be interrupting anything. However, as soon as he dials the number all he's rewarded with is, _'the number you are calling is unavailable…'_

"What the…" Wordy frowns as he hits redial. "Come on Spike, pick up." But there was no answer, only the same frustrating voice telling him that his friend wouldn't be getting his call anytime soon. "Did anyone get through?" He steps on the gas pedal a bit more, hoping that as soon as he got there Spike would be ready and waiting.

However, the opposite greets him upon his arrival.

"Nice way to spend a Saturday," Ed groans as Wordy walks past him. But instead of saying good morning to his best friend, he heads for Spike's locker on a mission. Ed peers around the corner, watching Wordy with interest. "What's goin' on?" Ed inquires. "What no good morning for your best friend?"

"Anyone see Spike this morning?" Wordy asks just as Sam enters.

"He's not here yet?" Sam joins in.

"Wordy, he's got a new girl," Ed grins. "He'll be here."

"No it's just that…yeah…yeah you're probably right," Wordy nods as he turns and heads for his locker, telling himself the uneasy feeling inside was from eating the first part of his breakfast too fast and the latter half of his lunch too late. He pulls open his locker just as Greg enters.

"Morning gentlemen," he greets with a small smile. "Everyone ready for some babysitting?"

"Boss you seen Spike yet?"

"No…he uh not here yet?" Greg answers and then looks at Wordy who offers a small groan.

"Wordy, what's going on?" Ed asks directly. "You've been in Spike panic mode since you got here."

"I got a missed call from him this morning and now I can't get through."

"Who called him?" Greg wonders as he reaches for his phone. "Winnie, did you get a hold of Spike?"

"Left a message at home. His cell isn't working."

"Isn't working?" Ed retorts. "He's a walking gadget. Something has to work to get a hold of him."

"Maybe he's just l…" Sam starts and then stops, the room filling with a bit of silence as each male team member looks at the other.

"Spike's never late, new girl or not," Wordy mentions in truth.

"Okay I don't want to start a panic," Greg starts in a calm tone. "I'll get team four in today and we'll swap with them another weekend. Finding Spike is our top priority."

"And if this is a hoax?" Sam wonders.

"Then you have my permission to kick his ass," Greg smirks with an uneasy tone coming to the fore. "But we know how diligent each member of this team is. He'd call in if he…could. I'll start with the police accident reports and see if anyone matching Spike's description was in an accident. ID can be lost, so we can't rule that out."

"Sam, Jules to head over to Spike's to see what's going on. Jules just go in and talk to his mom…say you are picking something up, check his room just don't cause a panic. Spike's parents don't need another excuse to get on him about his job."

"Boss, he wasn't home last night…well at least not to stay," Wordy pipes up. "Jules can still go and see if maybe there is something of Chloe's there but he was with her last night – all night. She's a flight attendant so she probably stayed at the Sheraton. It's directly connected to Pearson."

"He didn't say which hotel?" Ed queries.

"I didn't want to pry too much."

"Okay Ed, Wordy you guys head to the hotel and keep me posted here. I'll get Troy from team two in here to help with Spike's computer…stuff," Greg tells his team, referring to Spike's counterpart on the other SRU team.

Ed waits until both Greg and Sam leaves before he looks at Wordy directly. "Okay what aren't you telling them."

"What does that mean?"

"Man I can read you like a book right now and I'm not likin' it so far. What is it?"

"This is all my fault," Wordy moans as he heads for his locker to get his jacket and vest.

"Your fault? How's that?" Ed counters as they finish suiting up and then head for the garage where their black SUV's were waiting. "Wordy what's goin' on? What do you know?"

"Okay Spike and I were at the bar and…this girl comes up directly to him…she didn't even bat an eye and…"

"And that was bad?"

"No but…there was just something off."

"And?" Ed continues to pry.

"And I told him to go for it."

"And that's a bad thing? You wanted him to be happy, there is no fault in that."

"I pushed him into it Ed. I shoulda told him…ah damn…I'll never forgive myself if something happens to Spike and she's involved."

"Let's say that maybe he rolled over on his phone and…you know broke it," Ed states with a small smile. "Hey we've all made the mistake of taking the phone…"

"Into bed while having sex?"

"Fine…yes," Ed retorts. "I'm sure it's broken and everything is fine, he missed the call and will feel really guilty about it and you can have him make it up to you."

"Hope so," Wordy sighs as Ed directs the SUV into traffic and he calls the Sheraton. "Yes can I have the room number for a Chloe Smith."

"Smith?" Ed slightly arches his sandy colored brows.

"Don't ask. Sorry no hello? Yes Chloe Smith. I just need her ro…she's not? Has she stayed there at all in the past few days? No…okay thanks," Wordy hangs up and looks at Ed.

"What else is close by?"

"The um…Hilton and the holiday in," Wordy calls into Winnie. "Winnie can you search for a Chloe Smith and see if she's registered at any hotel around Pearson?"

_"Copy that,"_ she answers as Wordy waits. He casts his tense gaze out the window and then back at Ed.

"We'll find him. Maybe it was a last minute change on her part," Ed mentions.

"Most of them stay at the airport for short layovers, I know how it works. And you're not worried about this?"

"Two of us worried isn't going to help Spike is it?" Ed counters in a softer tone. "And yeah…I'm worried."

_"No Chloe Smith registered at any hotel near the Airport or in the GTA for that matter at least none of those two names together."_

_"And no accidents involving anyone with the last name Scarlatti or recent ER admits," Greg informs them._

"Is it possible to check the ones with the Chloe and Smith and see if any are recently from Vancouver?" Wordy asks Winnie.

_"It'll take a few more minutes."_

"Boss, can you get Troy to track Spike's last call? Wordy said he got one missed call from him about two hours ago."

_"Copy that," Greg's voice answers in haste._

"We'll find him."

"In time?" Wordy looks over at Ed in haste.

XXXXXXXX

Annabelle turns and looks back at Spike and smiles, but his expression remains sour and fists tight. "Oh come on now Spike, it was fun while it lasted right?" She tells him as she gets into the back, using the same stool David did earlier. "Just hush now and don't fuss okay?" She whispers as she gently peels the tape off his lips.

"Annabelle!" David barks in anger.

"Just drive David," she snaps as she turns back to Spike.

"Annabelle?"

"Chloe is my middle name. You okay?"

Spike looks at her in shock and just shakes his head. "You're not serious right? Annabelle…or whatever…I can't do what you want."

"Of course you can, you bragged about it. To that guy at the bar and to me."

_At the bar? _So she or they had overheard his conversation with Wordy and Lou the bartender and thought he was serious.

"Look that was…a training exercise. No one can hack into the federal reserve," Spike answers in a whispered tone and then turns away, not wanting to look at the face that he was so willing to give his heart to after just a few blissful hours.

"Spike listen to me," Annabelle starts in a low tone, her hand resting on his denim clad thigh, slowly moving upward. "You have to do this…do you understand? You don't really have a choice. If you don't you're dead."

"Really? And if I do, you and Mr. Happy up there are just going to let me walk out of there free and clear?" Spike counters with a small hiss, his voice at a low tone.

"Spike you have to believe me that I don't want you hurt…anymore."

"Chlo…Annabelle, listen. If it's money you want, let me make a call. I can get my team..."

"No cops Spike. You really don't want to make David any angrier than he already is do you? Just get us our money or…"

"Awfully chatty back there," David pipes up, earning a small curse from Annabelle and a scornful glance from Spike. "My dear I do hope that you are telling Spike here about all the terrible things we are going to do to him should he fail us in any way."

"Oh I think he understands what his defiance will earn him."

"Annabelle," Spike looks up at her as she slowly stands up.

"Because if he doesn't…" she leans in closer, her hand snatching the roll of duct tape. "He'll learn that hell hath no fury as a woman scorned."

"No you guys have the wr…" is all Spike manages before Annabelle rips off another strip of thick tape and presses it down over his lips, silencing him in an instant.

"Just do as you're told and I promise it will be okay," she whispers before placing a small kiss near his right ear and the heading back to the front seat. "Otherwise you will die. David likes to kill."

_No! _Spike tries to growl, his already chaffed wrists still pulling uselessly at the hard plastic restraints keeping him bound to the wheelchair. It was their day off and he could only hope that the team had gotten a call, because if that was the case they'd have already started searching for him. If not, he'd be dead before they knew he was missing.

"Alright Spike, we're here."

_Wordy, I pray that call went through._

XXXXXXXX

_"Okay guys I got the last call from Spike's phone before it was taken off the grid."_

"Taken off the grid?" Wordy asks in haste.

"Yeah you know from Tron," Ed smirks at Wordy who just shakes his head.

_"Deliberately broken or disabled. My guess…broken."_

"Right. Where did the last call come from?"

_"The area would put him in the Hilton. I can't tell you the room, only the location."_

"We'll take it from here and thanks. But don't go to far," Ed instructs as they take the turn off to the Hilton Hotel. "Boss you got that?"

_"I did. If it's just a case of misunderstanding, go easy on him guys but make sure…ah just make sure he's there and get back to me as soon as you can. Sam and Jules are at Spike's home right now and so far Jules says everything's fine. I'm guessing if Spike is in trouble, it has nothing to do with his family."_

"Work related," Wordy huffs under his breath.

_"Or a vendetta against the team," Greg adds. "Let me know as soon as you are in his room."_

"Copy that," Ed answers as he turns into the underground parking garage of the Airport Hilton. "Okay so she checked in under an assumed name, but you know what she looks like right?"

"I do. So hotel security first then?"

"Would be the best bet. If Spike came in last night then the night staff might have seen him but we don't have time for that," Ed replies as they both get out of the black SUV and head into the hotel room. Ed flashes his badge, asking for hotel security, Wordy in tow.

"Constable Lane and Wordsworth of the SRU, we need to see your security…" Ed's voice trails off as Wordy's eyes slowly roam around the room. He looks at the security cameras and frowns. Best case scenario, his friend was in bed with his new lady and this was all just a big misunderstanding. Worst case scenario, the security footage would show the ill demise of their friend and fellow team member and he'd forever curse himself for not telling Spike to be a bit more careful. But he knew Spike's luck with women, especially women who looked like Chloe. How could he tell his friend that she didn't seem into him in a genuine way?

"Alright lets see it," Ed's firm voice breaks into his thoughts. "You with me?"

"Yeah," Wordy remarks in haste.

The two of them turn their attention to the security footage, watching as Spike enters the hotel with a happy expression, heading to the front desk to get a room key. They then see him heading for the elevator and getting inside. Wordy sees the expression on his younger friends face and feels his stomach tighten. _Spike, I hope this is all just a bit misunderstanding. _

But the security footage would show him and the rest of the team that this was no misunderstanding and their friends life was indeed in grave danger.

"Here we go…third floor and…room…306," Ed's voice speaks in tandem with the security footage operator. "Okay who booked the room?"

"Checking that now," the tech goes into the computer reservation system. "A oh that's odd…Jane Doe."

"And no one questioned that?" Wordy wonders in annoyance as he looks directly at the hotel manager.

"Sir we try to respect privacy. Besides she paid in cash and…well it's not like there isn't really anyone named Jane Doe in the world."

"Okay. Has the room been made up yet?" Ed asks with a heavy sigh.

"They are just about to…" the hotel manager answers in haste. "And we tried to call the room again as you requested and there is no answer. Shall I send them in?"

"Tell them to knock and wait for an answer, if there is no answer, tell them to hold until we get there we're on our way up," Ed responds in haste. "But keep this footage ready just in case. Wordy."

"Let's go."

The two of them head for the elevator in silence, both of them hoping that this was nothing more than a technical glitch on their friend's part. Jules had already radioed in and told them that all was okay at Spike's and aside from a bar note that smelt like perfume nothing was missing or out of the ordinary.

They reach the third floor and see the hotel cleaning duo waiting in the hallway as instructed.

"We knocked Sir but no one answered," the older lady tells Wordy as they approach.

"Okay thanks. Please just stand back and we'll take it from here. Do you have a master key?" Wordy asks in a low tone. He takes the card and then gives Ed a nod before he heads for the other side of the door, both of them with their guns ready.

"Hey Spike? It's Ed. You in there buddy?" Ed calls out a bit loudly after a good solid knock. "Hey if I come in there right now, am I gonna see something I don't want to?" He asks with a small smirk. But that quickly changes to a frown when he's only rewarded with silence. "Let's go in," he whispers to Wordy. "Okay Spike, Wordy and I are comin' in."

Wordy readies his gun and offers a quick prayer that maybe his friend and his new lady were in the shower and just to busy to hear, but as Ed pulls out the master key card and then slowly pushes the door open, their fears are confirmed.

"Boss room is clear," Ed speaks into his head set so the rest of the team can hear. "Checking the bathroom."

"Ed you smell that?"

"Yeah. Fresh too."

_"Wordy was is it?" Greg asks in haste._

"Ammonia, bleach…something strong was used to clean in here," Wordy turns back to the cleaning staff. "Was anyone in here since yesterday?"

"No…no Sir. We just got the call to come and clean the floor. But no one has been in here since the occupant left."

"Bathroom's clear. Cleaned out and yeah a smell of ammonia also."

_"Someone is covering their tracks," Sam pipes up over the headset. "Wiping away fingerprints."_

"Wordy check the room," Ed directs and within seconds both of them are slowly looking around the room, checking for anything that might help lead them to their missing friend.

"Okay I found what appears to be a piece of a shattered phone," Ed bends down to inspect a small piece of LCD screen embedded in the hotel room carpet.

"Guys, Spike's in trouble."

_"Wordy, what did you find?" Greg asks in haste._

"I found blood spray," Wordy's worried tone pulls Ed's gaze to him in seconds. "Or at least part of it. Looks like whoever cleaned it, missed some," he finishes and back at Ed before adding in a soft whisper, "what have I done?"

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><p><strong>AN:** Okay so the team knows that Spike is missing but how will he get a message to them and what else is learned about his kidnappers? I struggled a bit with the whole team in here so hope they seem in character for the most part (if not please don't flame, but I am open to helpful personality suggestions). Please review and stay tuned for more. Thanks everyone!


	5. Time is Ticking

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 5 – Time is Ticking**

**A/N:** A special thanks to fanfictionfan63, noname, Karma, flashpointfreakaddict. I cannot personally thank you through the review system b/c you either don't have an account or you have messaging disabled, but I want to thank you so much for reading and reviewing – most appreciated. And a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has left encouraging feedback so far, it's really meant a lot and I hope to continue to hear from you as we go forward.

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><p><em>Okay think Spike…gotta get a message to the team but how…<em>

"Time to go Spike," David smiles as he swivels around in the front seat and looks at Spike, the gun now freshly clutched in his grasp. "Ready to do your job?"

Spike merely holds his gaze before Annabelle diverts it, drawing a slight sigh from David's pursed lips. "Remember Spike, time is ticking. You have…" he looks at his watch and then back up at Spike, "well let's keep it a mystery for now shall we? But think on this, the last poor fellow that failed me…I flayed - alive," David winks. "Horrible way to die…slow…and very painful. I enjoyed it but I doubt he did. Come Annabelle, bring our golden boy."

Spike's fists automatically tighten as David nears him, his lips uttering a muffled curse under the tape gag when David slaps him on the shoulder and just snickers. But his tension starts to rise once more as David nears his left ear and leans in closer; his hand resting on the crudely bandaged wound on his right thigh that he had made earlier.

"This," David hisses as he gives Spike's wound a firm squeeze, forcing Spike's eyes to automatically mist and his teeth to clench, "was just a small appetizer of what is going to happen, should you fail to get me my money." His hand pulls back and Spike finally feels himself swallow as David stomps angrily toward the back and then pushes the doors open.

"Bring him Annabelle, and don't forget our deal."

With the gag still firmly in place, Spike tells himself to try to drown out Annabelle's false comforting words and try to concentrate on getting a fix on his location.

_Shipyards...airport?…_David had slipped up when he mentioned that earlier and the drive from that turnoff when he tried to flip the wheelchair wasn't that long; they were down by the docks. But which end? And where? The waterfront wasn't exactly a small place to search.

But then his foggy brain thinks back to a somewhat whispered discussion that David and Annabelle had in the front seat. He had heard plane tickets and a private plane waiting once the deal was done. He'd concentrate on the deal in a bit. Plane? It was too quiet around the outside to be close to Pearson. Toronto Island Airport? Would make sense. So if he was to go with that he still had to figure out a way to get a message to the team.

"Stop looking Spike," Annabelle whispers. "You'll only anger David further. You are safe…for now."

Since he was unable to audibly say _screw you_, his mind offers it to Annabelle before he goes about his task in trying to get at least something he could recognize to help him pinpoint his location; a landmark, a sound, a smell…anything to help him secure his future instead of sealing his fate.

Then he heard it, the sound of a small plane overhead. It had to be Toronto Island Airport. However, his few seconds of relief are short lived when a small scraping sound is heard to the left, quickly diverting his attention.

"This him?" Another strange man asks as he looks at Spike with a small narrowed gaze through this black rimmed glasses. Spike feels his world starting to close in around him further, tightening the chances of him being able to get a message to the team unnoticed. He would need a diversion. But how?

"Everything set up?" David ignores the question and asks his own instead.

"It will be in five minutes," Joe answers as David walks up to Spike.

David roughly yanks the tape off Spike's lips and snickers and then walks past, tossing the piece of tape on the cold cement floor. Spike's fists angrily try in vain to pull themselves free of the tight wrist restraints but to no avail. _Damn it, _he curses inwardly, his eyes frantically searching the area he was now trapped in. His gaze comes to rest up on the table a few meters ahead and then stop to examine it. There was a computer and a bunch of electronic devices already set up; no need to analyze them further as he knew already what they were for. IP bouncers, fake firewalls, a super computer and a few other things that would make sending out a viable message near impossible. But just to the side of one of the computers was a small phone. If he could get to it and at least try to dial 911. His team might be able to intercept the call…or better yet a text? Something…

His thoughts were interrupted by Annabelle's fingers resting on his cheek and moving lower to where some overnight stubble was starting to take shape. "You know you only get one chance at this right?" She asks in a low tone.

"Annabelle are you doing this willingly or does he have something on you?" Spike tries, hoping desperately to have at least one possible ally on his side in this nightmare.

"I'm doing this for the money Spike," she replies in a cool tone. "Sorry…it was just business."

"So your family?"

"Part…part of that was true," she answers in a near dead whisper.

"What aren't you telling me? What does he have on you?"

"Spike…"

"Please tell me Annabelle."

"Enough to keep me here no matter what."

"My team…they can help you."

"Spike enough for now. Just keep your voice down okay?"

"Annabelle, I don't want to die, but I can't break into…"

"You have to Spike, you really have to."

"So basically anything I say no one is gonna listen to right?"

"All we want to hear is you did it or else. David has a time frame, if you don't get it done by then he'll kill you…slowly and painfully."

"Annabelle…"

"Spike, there were others but you said you could do this. I heard you…we both heard you."

"I was drunk and…"

"Just make it happen…or else."

"Right," Spike slightly swallows and then pulls his gaze away from her and looks at the backs of the two men hovering around the table. The phone was still there, maybe it was possible. They had to free his hands to allow him to work. Could he also request some privacy? If he could at least ensure that they wouldn't just hover around him the entire time…all he would need is a few seconds…ten seconds to send out…

"Spike…are you ready?" David turns to him with a small sneer before he pulls the gun and nears him once more.

"David…"

"Shut it Annabelle!" David hisses. "I just want to ensure that our dear Spike here knows exactly how serious I really am."

"I know…I know," Spike retorts in haste, drawing a small snicker from his captor.

"Good. Let's just reinforce that thought shall we?"

XXXXXXXX

"Alright boss, we're gonna seal off this room and get the forensic team…"

_"Ed looking for prints in a hotel room is like looking for a needle in a haystack," Sam pipes up over the headset. _

"I know it's a long shot but we gotta take every shot. Wordy and I," Ed pauses and then looks over at his friend who was still transfixed on the bloody smear and then continues, "will head back to the security room to see if we can get a facial ID on our two kidnappers."

_"Copy that," Greg's heavy sigh is heard._

"Hey…you with me?"

"Yeah," Wordy replies as he follows after Ed, both of them hurrying toward the elevator and back down to the security room.

"We'll find him Wordy," Ed tries to assure his friend and partner as they near the room.

Wordy stops Ed from walking, his hand firmly gripping his arm as both of them lock eyes. "If that was my blood in there and you were responsible for pushing me into something, how do you think you'd feel right now? Casual?"

"I'm not casual, but you are emotional enough for both of us. Spike went into this willingly. If you had said no, he probably wouldn't have listened. He's a grown man Wordy and you are not to blame for this. I need to stay calm for both of us."

"Thank you Oprah," Wordy groans as he pushes past Ed into the security room.

"I like Dr. Phil better," Ed retorts as he too enters the room. "Okay so we need to see the rest of that footage."

"Yes Sir," the security tech answers as he starts up the feed once again. Both Ed and Wordy watch as the hallway is clear, the tech fast forwarding until a man appears off the elevator pushing a car and then knocks on the door.

"Can we track where he came from and who he is?"

"That man isn't one of mine," the hotel manager pipes up.

"How can you tell?"

"The um…tattoo on the hand. And besides I know which kitchen staff worked room service last night and it wasn't any of our male waiters."

"I don't even want not know why," Ed groans as he starts to talk to Greg and Troy, wanting to get an ID on the tattoo. Wordy continues with the rest of the footage around Spike's room. "Okay they are working on an ID."

"This guy drops the food and then leaves," Wordy relays as he looks back down at the tech. "And then he comes back with a wheelchair."

"Damn it," Ed curses. "That's how they got Spike out of here. Anything on our waiter?"

_"Workin' on it," Troy's voice is heard._

"Work faster," Wordy's tense request although soft is heard by all.

Both of them then watch with much horror as Spike's unconscious frame is wheeled out of the room and toward the freight elevator.

"Okay standby, we might have a plate and make to give you Winnie," Ed tells the team.

Wordy can only shake his head and tighten his fists, wondering where Spike was shot and if that was his blood. But as he studies the rest of the footage he spies a small dark spot on Spike's unmoving thigh, he knows that the gunman probably meant it as a warning shot as Spike fought back. A shot that was obviously silenced. They enter the elevator and are finally followed out into the parking lot where a black van is seen waiting.

"Can you zoom in on the plates?"

"Yup…hold on a sec."

"Okay we got a plate," Wordy tells Troy who quickly enters the Ontario plate into the database.

_"Registered to an Oliver Zales. But he reported it stolen two days ago."_

_"Sam, Jules, go and talk to Oliver. Maybe he remembers something," Greg instructs._

_"Copy that," Sam replies firmly._

"Anything on that ID yet Troy?"

_"Database is still searching for the man and woman," he answers with a small sigh, echoing the tension that every team member was feeling over their missing friend. "The images are fuzzy."_

"Boss in the meantime Wordy and I are going to talk to the kitchen staff. Hotel manager said they are just coming off night shift. Maybe they can tell us something else while we are waiting."

"If he could get a message to us he will," Wordy mentions in an undertone, mostly for his own peace of mind.

"Spike, is a smart guy and trained to think on his feet in a tense situation like any of us."

"Yeah but how many of us wake up to find the woman we slept with the night before now has us kidnapped for whatever reason?"

"Shelly doesn't do that?" Ed winks and Wordy's face slightly eases.

"Sophie ever shoot you?"

"Okay so emotions are involved and tensions are high. Thankfully for Spike, it wasn't long enough for him to really get attached to this girl. He'll get that message to us," Ed tries to assure his friend.

"Wish we knew what the hell they wanted," Wordy mutters under his breath. But inside his own mind, he wasn't sure what condition Spike was in or what they even wanted him for. If it was a ransom, a demand of any kind was usually made within twenty-four hours of the person being taken. They still hadn't heard from the people that kidnapped Spike so that feeling of impending doom was still there; they had nothing to reason about or bargain with. Unless they got an ID they were stuck.

"Come on Troy…"

_"Still a few more names to search," Troy answers words anxious request. "One more minute."_

"We don't have one more minute," Wordy snaps impatiently, drawing a few stares from the frightened kitchen ladies. "Sorry," he slightly frowns and then goes back to talking to them.

_"Okay so I think I got a match. The picture from the basement was kinda fuzzy but it looks like the guy's name is David Parks. I'm checking for alias's now. Yeah there are a few and I'll run them as well. His last known address was in Vancouver but he hasn't lived there for about five years. After he left Vancouver in 2006…there is no known address."_

"Great so this guy just disappears and then reappears like Houdini again to kidnap Spike for no reason? There has to be more to it," Ed demands. "Is there any personal connection with Spike?"

_"None," Troy answers in haste._

_"Cross reference gives us David Lambert and…oh."_

"Boss?"

_"He's got a closed file by the FBI," Troy breaks into the conversation._

"The FBI?" Wordy inquires.

_"And a few other federal agencies on both sides of the border. This guy is bad news and is wanted here and in the States. I'll see what if I can get these files opened," Greg informs his team. _

_"Jules and I are here with Mr. Zales. He says that he listed the van for sale and a man with red hair came by to look at but he could swear that the man who stole it had black hair because he got a glimpse of him just as he drove away."_

_"But he confirmed the hand tattoo was the same. Said the man tried to cover it but he got a look before he covered it up completely," Jules explains. _

"Great so a master of disguise," Wordy mentions. "But that still doesn't tell us why he wants Spike. Anything on Chloe Smith?"

_"Still working on her, but he has a few female associates linked to him, one of them an Annabelle Chloe Garden. Her file is also locked and Sergeant Parker is working on getting them opened. But both of them have murder, kidnapping and computer hacking and online thefts listed as their bad deeds. David a bit more with excessive force and few other violence related charges."_

"Okay so computer theft. Starting to make a bit more sense in at least why they may have targeted Spike," Ed tells the team.

_"Yeah they kidnap Spike to hack into something they obviously don't have the skills to do themselves," Sam pipes up._

_"Or don't want to get caught for," Jules adds. "My guess would be a big fat bank account and transfer whatever funds into their own private Swiss bank account."_

_"Or somewhere in south america...somewhere with no extradition to Canada. But these two are also wanted in the US so that could narrow our destination list a bit."_

"Either way, when Spike doesn't give them what they want, and after seeing that blood spray, those excessive violence charges are going to come to the fore," Wordy explains in a grave tone.

_"And we don't even know where to start looking," Sam continues. "They could have taken him anywhere."_

_"Okay so I was able to get some of the files unlocked, Troy is working on the rest," Greg's voice breaks into the discussion. "Yeah it helps to have friends in very high places."_

_"Guess those low ones weren't workin' for ya," Sam smirks._

"Boss?"

_"David's last file was a kidnapping charge in New York State. Apparently he and a female accomplice kidnapped a Canadian computer guy named, Jake Barfoot in Niagra Falls and took him to Manhattan, which is why his file is showing up in our database. His body was found…flayed," Greg's voice pauses, adding eerie silence to the grim picture that was already growing about Spike's fate. "Among other things. This guy died a very painful death."_

"Oh god," Wordy lightly curses.

_"The pictures are very grisly. But this wasn't an isolated incident. In the past five years, there have been a string of grisly murders all with this guy's MO. But he was never caught. Always leaving the body and then disappearing."_

_"Also in each picture the number 500 has been carved somewhere on the body," Troy adds._

_"500?" Jules asks with a small gasp. "Do we even want to guess what that means?"_

_"No need. And no it's not a body count," Greg joins back in. "According to the notes in the files, it's the time that the person was reported missing until he was found dead. There were two that weren't reported missing but were still carved with the same 500 brand as the others. Guess they all failed."_

_"Damn this sick bastard," Sam's angry curse is also heard._

"500 minutes? That's just over eight hours," Ed looks at his watch.

"Right so when the hell do we start counting? Because if it's when that guy brought up…" Wordy's voice trails off.

_"My guess would be when Spike was taken out of this hotel. Maybe they give them that long to try to hack into whatever…" Greg starts only to be interrupted by Wordy. "Either way they have a good head start on us and timing is running out for Spike."_

"Do we know what these guys were supposed to hack into?"

_"Well here is the really bad news…the Federal Reserve."_

"What?" A collective question in shock is heard over the airwaves.

_"But that's impossible," Troy's voice is heard. "No one can hack into that."_

"Oh no…that's it…oh damn," Wordy curses as he turns and heads toward the elevator. "I should have told him to back off."

"Wordy wait up," Ed calls after his friend as he hurries behind him.

_"Guys what's going on?" Greg asks in a small panic._

"Wordy," Ed calls to his friend. "Talk to me man, what do you know?"

"This...this could have been prevented."

"Wordy," Ed tries again.

"At the bar…at Lou's, Spike was bragging to me about some geek day that…"

_"The annual convention. Yeah I was there," Troy interrupts._

"And Spike won right?" Wordy continues.

_"Yeah took top marks in the class. He was pretty jazzed up about it too."_

"Can someone tell me how this is relevant?" Ed counters, making Wordy turn and face him directly.

"Chloe overheard Spike bragging to me about hacking into the Federal Reserve at the bar. Only it was a training room he hacked into, it looked real on Spike's end but it wasn't. But he didn't mention that at the bar; only in the locker room. It sounded cool and we weren't exactly quiet about it after having a few beers. Lou knew we were joking..."

_"But she didn't and if he's drunk and bragging about it to her…"_

_"Then she sees this as their golden ticket and calls in David," Jules finishes Sam's sentence._

"I knew she wasn't on the up and up," Wordy growls at his own bad judgment.

_"Wordy, you couldn't have known any of this, none of us could, least of all Spike."_

"Right well either way the clock is ticking against Spike. And what happens when they find out he can't hack into the Federal Reserve?" Wordy asks rhetorically.

None of them had to answer, they all knew what it was – their friend and team member would be dead.

XXXXXXXX

Spike squeezes his eyes and takes a deep breath. David's silenced gun had opened another small sliver of flesh, this one on his upper right arm, thankfully not doingany nerve damage but sending enough of a point that this too was merely the amuse bouche for the real painful main course that was awaiting should he fail them in any way.

The awful truth of the matter was, he_ was_ going to fail – at least in their initial request. Hacking into the most secure government facility on the planet was impossible but he had to act fast before the rest of David's wrath was unleashed and this would be the last company he spent time with before his time was up.

"Good, now that we understand ourselves," David hisses in Spike's ear. "Time to get me my money."

"_Our money_, right David?"

"Shut up Joe," David retorts angrily as he pushes Spike up toward the desk and stops him a few feet from the table.

"No...I don't think so," Joe shouts back.

"You know you have been testy all morning Joe."

"Don't I have reason?" Joe argues back as he nears David, but still a few meters away from Spike and the table with the phone on it.

David's fingers rest on the right hard restraint, toying with it a few seconds before finally undoing it and then the left, allowing Spike to rub some feeling back into his tender and chaffed wrists.

"Warm your hands Spike, you have two minutes."

Two minutes and his angry captor's back was turned that was all he would need to get the phone! However, at this point it didn't seem like it would happen. Spike pushes past the searing sensation in his upper right arm, his very life was at stake; anything a mere band-aide could fix would be dwelt on later.

As Spike listens to them argue, he feels his own impending doom starting to descend up on him and suffocate him, laughing at his helpless situation. He was still strapped to the wheelchair but didn't care, all he needed was a small distraction to get the phone left so carelessly lying before him. Would he get that opportunity? It didn't seem like it, David's attention was on him like a hawk.

But then destiny pushes fate aside and decides to intervene for a few precious seconds.

"Keep your voice down you fool," David growls.

"You know you have been saying _me _and _mine _all day now but never in reference to anybody but yourself! Both Annabelle and I are entitled to that money, David," Joe barks in anger. "You aren't the only one involved in all this! For the past five…"

"Joe back down."

"Stay out of this Annabelle," Joe snaps. "For the past five years you have been promising us delusions of grandeur. Kidnapping these computer geeks you say can get us untold wealth. So far all I have is a pocket full of lint and a rap sheet as long as the damn road behind me. So I am pissed! Don't tell me to keep my voice down again. I want MY money!"

"Oh trust me Joe, you'll get what's coming to you."

"I have had enough of your BS. I want.."

"Do you know the last man that crossed me Joseph Find?"

"You don't scare me David Queen. I want what's mine!"

"Trust me you'll get what's coming to you," David snarls as he leaves Spike's side and marches up to Joe.

"David no," Annabelle growls. "Joe…"

"In fact…I'll give you an advance right now."

"Bring it you arrogant prick."

"Oh I shall."

And before anyone could react, David pulls out a sharp buck knife and slices into Joe's large femoral artery, holding his dying commrade a few seconds, before turning back just in time to see Spike place the phone back on the table. Anger flashing in his black soulless orbs as he heads for the helpless SRU team member.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay so sorry for the evil cliffe (well for those that know me know that's what Alice loves the most hehe) of course my beloved Spike won't die and they still need him alive, but do you think David saw? Did a message get out? Will the team find him in time? Hope you are all still liking this and stay tuned for more. Please review and thanks in advance.


	6. Betrayal!

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 6 – Betrayal!**

* * *

><p>It all happened so fast for Spike, he was sure his heart rate was in critical. David had turned to focus on Joe, the knife carefully slipping from his sleeve into the open palm of his hand. He wasn't about to warn one for the other, in truth he didn't care; he needed the distraction to focus on what he had to do. His slightly trembling fingers grab the phone and starts to text 9-11.<p>

He hears Annabelle's warning to Joe and then hears Joe utter an angry cry just as his call connects. He puts it on mute and quickly dims the screen before placing the phone back on the table just as David turns around to face him; Joe's body falling to the floor on his left, the knife with freshly dripping blood hanging on the right.

_Oh damn he saw…_Spike's mind races in a panic as his eyes fix on Joe's fallen form, a pool of blood from the deathly injury forming around him; Annabelle glaring at David in hatred.

"You idiot! We needed him."

"He's dead! Get over it and don't yell at me Annabelle. Now Spike," David slowly walks up to him, forcing Spike's throat reflexes to automatically swallow. "Do you see what happens to those that don't listen to me?" He comes and stands right before Spike, glaring down. Then without warning, his vice-like grip seizes Spike's freshly wounded arm and jerks him painfully forward.

"I'm not a man to test."

"I um...see that."

Spike's lips stifles a painful gasp as his eyes want to water as he looks up at David with a heavy frown. _Oh god that hurts, _his mind agonizes in silent misery.

"You will of course give me a few minutes to…" David looks past him to the cell phone sitting only a few inches away. "You know I had my back turned for a few moments. Did you by any chance use the phone Spike?"

"No," Spike answers, praying his tone would come across as sounding firm.

"Are you sure?" David's fingers press into Spike's open wound, forcing his face to wince and his whole body to tense.

"P-pretty sure," Spike slightly stammers, trying to keep his firm composure and push past the pain. "Ah...okay."

"Did you?"

"No."

"David, don't be stupid. You ruin his arms or hands and we'll never get what we came for!" Annabelle hisses.

David's angry grip remains on Spike's chewed up flesh a few seconds longer, sending shockwaves of searing pain down his entire sweat clad frame.

"Never argue with a woman," David's hand releases and Spike exhales audibly. "You have five minutes to recover Spike and then we get busy."

Spike yanks his arm free, his left hand automatically resting on his right arm, his mind trying to think away the fresh pain that was still dancing around his weary frame. He quickly glances at the phone for a few seconds before turning to watch David and Annabelle starting to drag Joe's lifeless body a few meters away, a crimson stain following the lifeless corpse.

"You should be planning your strategy Spike," David states gruffly. "Pity you have to wait for me," David snickers from the shadows.

_Come on guys…hurry, _Spike's mind utters as he turns back to the table before him and the computer. He presses a button and of course it was locked; waiting for David to get their and unlock with his password. If he had time he could possibly reboot the system and try to manually override upon startup. But as David's heavy footsteps are heard heading back in his direction that plan was moot.

"Be with you in a minute Spike."

Spike looks at his watch and frowns. When did he place the call? It seems like only seconds ago but in reality it was minutes. Did his team get the call? Were they on their way? They would have to be. How could he stall? Spike hears David coming up behind him and automatically cringes when David's heavy hand clamps down on his tense shoulder.

"Let's do this shall we?"

XXXXXXXX

_"Okay got a live 9-11 call from a cell phone. Caller texted 'Spike' and it's been live but silent for the past five minutes," Winnie's voice breaks into the sordid discussion about David and Annabelle._

_"I'm on it," Troy pipes up, Greg anxiously hovering over his shoulder for any results. _

"Troy do you have an address for us yet?" Ed asks impatiently.

_"A few more…ah lost it," Troy growls. _

"Damn it," Wordy curses.

"What?"

_"The call was disconnected on their end."_

"Come on we are out of time," Wordy groans.

"They still might need him…" Ed starts.

"Yeah and what if he's already tried and that was his last attempt at…" Wordy's tense tone is interrupted by Greg.

_"Guys, we'll make it," Greg tries to assure them. "Troy did you get anything in time?" _

_"I got a location. Toronto Island Airport," Troy relays._

"Let's move. We'll get the details on the way," Ed's commanding voice directs the team. "Wordy, we'll make it."

"We better," Wordy replies with a frown as they get into the service elevator. But in his mind he knows the call was ended and not by Spike. What did that mean for his friend? Whatever it was, after hearing what David was capable of he knew it wasn't good.

XXXXXXXX

"Do you really think me stupid! Now give me the damn phone!" David hollers as he tries to get the phone away from Spike's grasp. After sustaining another painful hit to his arm, Spike's right hand loosens and the phone clatters to the floor, a few feet away from the right wheel of the wheelchair.

Annabelle quickly scoops it up and then looks at the phone face. The call was ended but there was the log. Spike had called for help. Now she was torn.

"Who did he call?"

"No one," Annabelle replies, forcing the wince on Spike's face to morph into a confused frown. Why did she help him? What was her real game?

"Let me see that," David huffs as he storms up to Annabelle, just as her nimble fingers had cleared the call to 9-11. She knew it was only a matter of time now before his team would arrive and in truth she had wanted out long before this but until now no one had afforded her the opportunity to get the help without alerting David. Spike was that chance. She could only hope it wasn't too late. Five years ago David had come to her with a plan to get rich quick and then retire comfortably on a tropical island. She fell for it; all his lies and all his lines. But what she didn't know was who David really was or the hold he'd have over her. And it wasn't until she was in too deep and few grisly deaths behind her that she knew he owned her soul. Getting out wasn't going to be easy and she did suspect she'd die but maybe in death she'd find the peace she never found in life. She knew she'd be leaving behind loved ones, but it was better than rotting in jail. She had failed in life, maybe in death she'd find solace. She had found not much honor in life, maybe in death she'd be redeemed. She had to help Spike, even if it meant buying hm a few minutes.

"See it's dead."

David's eyes narrow at her as he slams the phone to the floor and smashes it with his foot. "Just like he'll be ver soon. Now let's get this over with," he takes the gun and places it in her hands. "When this is over you know what to do."

"I don't want to kill him."

"I don't care what you want. Do it or you I make a call and you'll be sorry!"

"David…"

"Cross me Annabelle and I'll cut you right now and let you bleed out!"

"I want…"

"I know what you want and you'll get it as soon as the money is transferred. And when that is done, I'll get the plane ready and you'll kill our computer genius here. Or you'll both end up like Joe right now!"

"Now you are threatening me? You twisted bastard!" Annabelle argues back as she holds her ground and both of them trade hate-filled glares for a few tense seconds. In the meantime, Spike's fingers had worked the waist restraint as loose as he could, so that if he was wheeled away at least he'd have given himself somewhat of a fighting chance.

"Move!"

"Don't yell at me again," Annabelle snatches the gun from David's fingers and pushes past him, heading for the table where Spike was waiting. "Just hurry," she whispers as David nears them.

"Okay Spike, you have…" David looks at his watch as he logs in. "Well no time at all really. Now get BUSY!"

Spike looks up with a frown. _Is he serious? _But when David's hand reaches into the inner pocket and pulls out the bloody knife, Spike quickly turns to the front of the computer and starts to type away. "Okay...getting busy," Spike states wryly.

"That's better."

While David and Annabelle were distracted his mind had finally formulated a plan to use the same path he did to hack into the training room; a false entryway into the Federal Reserve that he used in his class. He had told himself that if he just stalled as much as he could, by the time he reached the end of the training program, his team would be here and this nightmare would be over.

"Looks simple enough," Annabelle mentions.

"Right well looks can be deceiving, don't you agree Spike?"

"Yeah this isn't simple," he replies in a small wry tone, his eyes looking up at Annabelle for a few seconds and then back down.

"Ah she really got to you didn't she? She's very good in bed as well. You know she can talk the talk and walk the walk if you know what I mean," David snickers in his ear, causing Spike to pause on the keyboard.

"That's enough David."

"Time is of the essence Spike."

"Trust me I'm not in a hurry to die," Spike counters with a snip to his tone.

"Well we all die sometime, you get to die making me rich and happy. Now move. If I have to say it again, your leg gets a new space for a kneecap. Understood?"

_Hurry guys, _Spike's mind calls as he clears through the second training exercise firewall. He was going at a steady pace to make it look legitimate but hopefully slow enough for his team to arrive before he was dead. But what was Annabelle's real story? What did David have on her that would force her to do his murderous bidding.

XXXXXXXX

The drive toward Lakeshore Avenue and then onto Lakeshore that would take them onto Toronto Island was spent mostly in silence, Wordy and Ed getting small bits of added information about David and what other atrocities he was guilty of.

"Spike's smart, he'll find a way to stall for time."

"Yeah if he can," Wordy frowns. "I wanted this for him you know; a girl he could really connect with. The next morning when he came in with that smile…it was so real. I mean Spike's a happy go lucky kinda guy but that smile…damn it Ed, why didn't I…"

"Continually beating yourself up over this isn't going to help either of you. I know we all want that for Spike, for him to have a chance at what we have and it will come. This time…wasn't it."

"I still prefer Oprah," Wordy smirks, forcing Ed's lips to partially twist upward as well.

"I guess love makes you do stupid things," Sam mentions to Jules in a low tone.

"Love? You believe this was love at first sight?" Jules counters.

"Sounded like it at first from what Wordy told us. Why is that bad?"

"Are you kidding?"

"No, I meant love at first sight?" Sam asks with a serious expression. Jules holds his gaze for a few seconds longer, no words needed as they both knew the answer.

"Lets just get to Spike before it's love at first sight is written on his tombstone."

"Always the naysayer," Sam chuckles.

"Okay guys sirens off. We want to get the jump on them without this turning into a hostage situation," Ed breaks into the off-side discussion. "Troy can you tell us which part of the island the call originated?"

_"__North east. Near the airport itself. Look for the black van. If they were planning on taking a private plane out of there, there are a few private terminals to choose from."_

"Copy that," Ed answers as they come to a fork in the road. "Sam, Jules take the left. All eyes looking for the black van. No one moves until we are all at the same place."

_Hold on Spike, we're almost there, _Wordy's mind utters in haste. He looks over at Ed who exchanges a worried look but no words were offered. Their friend wasn't safe yet and time was rapidly running out.

XXXXXXXX

"I think you are deliberately stalling!" David shouts down as Spike reaches the end and tries to show them he can't go any further. David's fist with the gun with the silencer still wrapped in his fingers slams down hard on the desk, forcing the keyboard and mouse to slightly jump. "Now Spike…I am losing my patience."

"I tried to tell Annabelle…"

"You said you could do it! We both heard you! Were you that desperate for female attention?"

The question inevitably stung and Spike feels his fists tighten on the table. "I was drunk and you know when you are drunk you say things that..." his voice rattles off in haste.

"Can you get me my money or not!" David's angry voice demands in his left ear.

"I can um…try one more thing," Spike's eyes shift to the left and then back to the front once more.

"Good, do it! Fail me this time and you will die."

XXXXXXXX

_"Winnie any flights out of Porter Airlines leaving the island and heading for somewhere either overseas, tropical or to south America?" Greg's voice is heard over the headset._

"First priority to those without extradition agreements to Canada."

"Like the Cayman Islands?" Wordy queries.

_"Anything," Greg replies. "There's a lot of places to cover on the island."_

_"Copy that. Hold on a minute," Winnie's tense voice is heard. _

_"Greg, Spike has accessed his training exercise from class," Troy mentions. "But you guys gotta hurry."_

"So at least he's stalling them," Wordy mentions.

_"Spike, will do what he can. Now we gotta get there before David does what he can," Greg reminds him. "Or Spike runs out of time."_

_"Okay got something. There are two private flights leaving in one hour to the Cayman Islands," Winnie informs them. _

_"Winnie send the building addresses to the team."_

"We're close…" Ed's voice trails off as he sends instructions to the Sam and Jules on which building to take, Greg now en route. Wordy's eyes close sharply as he continues to search for the black van. Spike had figured a way to contact them and stall for time; those small snippets put his mind at ease somewhat. But he was sure that he probably also had endured something nefarious at David's murderous hands. But to what extent? And now that Spike had stopped with the training exercise and no more calls were made were they already too late?

"I see the black van," Wordy's voice is heard, prompting Ed to quickly veer in the direction toward it, giving the location to the rest of the team.

_"Copy that," Sam's anxious tone is picked up. "Jules and I will be there in two."_

_Hold Spike, were almost there buddy._

XXXXXXXX

"I think he's intentionally stalling for time!" David growls as he pulls the knife and presses it against Spike's thigh, threatening to slice into the live giving femoral artery. "Where is my money?"

"Joe was right!" Annabelle's angry voice is finally heard, forcing David to turn around and see her pointing the gun at her.

"Put that thing away."

"You keep saying _my _money. How many damn plane tickets do you have David?"

"Annabelle…"

"How many!" She demands in anger just as she cocks the trigger.

"You are a terrible shot! Now put that away. If you want to go then fine, I'll kill him and we'll leave here already."

"Where to?"

"Somewhere tropical."

"That wasn't the deal."

"The deal has changed," David hisses sharply.

"Okay then fine, Spike lives."

"He knows who we are! No one has ever lived to tell on us, or do you forget our deal?"

"You changed it and so can I. I'm not going with you David."

"Bloody bitch," David growls under his voice as his eyes remain trained on the woman before him. "Never trust a woman."

XXXXXXXX

Just outside Ed and Wordy quietly get out of the black SRU SUV and rush toward the front door, passing the black van, both their guns ready for action.

_"Do we have eyes yet?" Greg inquires as he pushes the gas pedal a bit lower to the floor._

"Not yet boss but we hear shouting. Sounds like tension inside is escalating," Ed answers as he looks at Wordy, both of them nearing the front door.

"I doubt we'll have much time to bargain with," Wordy adds.

_"Talk to me guys," Greg insists._

Each of them take a side of the building but with no windows at their height it was impossible to see where Spike was and what condition he was in.

"Sounds like a man and woman. But we got no eyes and can't see or hear Spike," Wordy relays to the team. "We have to go in now."

_"We're almost there," Sam informs Ed and Wordy. "I see you guys."_

"We're going around the back. Sam, Jules you cover the front," Ed directs.

_"Copy that."_

"Remember guys, they got Spike and we don't know in what condition he's in. We take this carefully."

XXXXXXXX

"You are in this just as deep as I am Annabelle."

"He can't get our money, so why don't we just leave! Where is my ticket?"

"It's in the plane." David huffs, his anger growing stronger.

"You show me," Annabelle demands.

"Are you…" David pauses as he looks at Spike and then rushes toward him, seeing him fiddling with the waist restraint and finally getting it loose. "Oh no you don't," David growls as he wraps an arm around Spike's neck before he can escape and drags him out of the chair, Spike struggling to remain upright. He slams Spike onto the table and quickly pulls out a pair of handcuffs. Spike's leg kicks out but David's speed was too fast, trapping his wrists behind his back and rendering him his prisoner once more.

"Now you'll die a…well it was supposed to be slow and painful but how about just quick and painless?"

"You don't have to do this," Spike states in haste.

"I want to," David hisses as he remains in a dead heat with Annabelle.

"Stop this David!"

"Your play my dear. Me or him?"

"I want my damn ticket!"

"Then come and get it from me," David challenges as he cocks the trigger.

"You let him go first."

"Fine."

XXXXXXXX

_"Okay I was finally able to open the last file," Troy's voice breaks out onto the headset. "I found the connection between Annabelle and David."_

_"What is it?" Greg asks in haste._

"Boss, Wordy and I are at the back door and about to enter," Ed's voice relays the same time as Greg's question.

_"She's his wife…"_

"What?"

*bang*

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay so first off I did struggle with team action stuff a bit and hope it sounds okay and not cheesy! Lol I'm a better angst than action writer I think. But hope it wasn't lame. So who do you think got shot? Is this ordeal over for Spike yet? What else will the team learn? Hope you are all liking it so far and stay tuned for a bit more to come! Please review before you go and thanks so much!


	7. Collateral Damage

**Title: 500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 7 – Collateral Damage**

* * *

><p>"Shots fired! Shots fired!" Both Ed and Sam relay to Greg at once.<p>

"We have to get in there now."

"Sam, Jules on two."

The time ticks down slowly as Ed and Sam both pull the small man doors open at the same time, all four of them shouting 'police don't move' at once. But much to their dismay there were only two people to greet them, and neither was their still missing team member and one was already dead.

The four of them rush toward the two fallen bodies, Sam checking Joe and Jules kneeling down beside Annabelle.

"She's still breathing!" Jules shouts as she quickly radios for an ambulance. "Where did they go?" She asks firmly.

"Side…door," Annabelle gasps as she looks up at Jules with a sorry expression.

"She says there's a side door," Jules relays as Annabelle's bloody hand tries to grasp hers.

"Go!" Ed shouts as he follows after Wordy who was already rushing for the darkened area of the warehouse.

"Pa…patrick…" Annabelle gasps as she quickly draws both Jules and Sam's gaze back down to her.

"Who's Patrick?" She asks in concern.

"Help…him."

"Boss, she's asking about Patrick, saying we have to help him. Maybe another hostage?"

"Just hold still."

"Spike…" Annabelle whispers.

"He'll be fine," Sam assures her as he looks up at Jules with a frown.

_"Troy and I will work on it. Ambulance is on its way."_

"Wordy and I are in pursuit out the side," Ed tells the team as he and Wordy near the back exit and stop as they hear muffled voices on the other side. Ed notions to Wordy as he slowly pushes the door open and then both quickly ready their guns. The space before them was vacant, but they could hear Spike arguing with David in the distance.

"My team is here and…"

"Shut up already," David growls as he tries to haul Spike upward after Spike had purposely fallen to his knees to again stall for time.

_"Annabelle!" Spike remembered yelling as David had wasted no time in firing the shot and then dragging him away._

As soon as he had watched Annabelle's body absorb the bullet, David's grasp around his neck tightened and he was being pulled toward the darkened door.

With his wrists cuffed behind his back, it wasn't an easy task for him to try to get at David but as they neared the back door, his panic forced his brain to do anything to fight back or stall for time. But as soon as he heard Ed's voice yelling as they entered David's panic also seized him, making him loosen his grasp around Spike's neck and instead firmly grasp his wounded arm, sending new shockwaves of pain up the entire right side of his body.

"Move!" David orders as he tries to grab at Spike's bloody sweater, wanting to take the arm and force Spike to come with him as a hostage. Spike tries to dodge his grasp but being on his knees and without the use of his arms, it didn't afford him much of a fighting chance. Thankfully things quickly changed.

As soon as David got Spike to his knees, both of them look up to see Ed and Wordy rush in with their guns trained.

"Drop it David, you are surrounded and have nowhere to go."

"You first officer," David replies in sarcasm as he pushes his gun into Spike's cheek and cocks the trigger. "That's how it works right? You drop your guns, I get on my plane and your friend lives."

"Drop it David, I won't say it again," Ed warns him firmly, their eyes locked in a tense, heated showdown. "Do it now!"

_"Sam…"_

_"I'll head around the back and see if I can get a shot from there. Just keep him talking for a few more seconds."_

"David it doesn't have to end this way," Ed continues.

"I think you all know what I am capable of," his arm around Spike's neck squeezes forcing Spike to squirm a bit more in place and both Ed and Wordy to just pause in place. "Now drop your weapons."

"Won't happen David," Ed retorts. "You are outnumbered."

"I'll take my chances," he sneers as he cocks the trigger.

_"Sam…"_

_"Almost there boss," Sam huffs into the headset as he nears the voices. "No joy yet," he relays as he quietly moves toward the back of the second open airplane hangar. The bodies were mostly shielded by the small Cessna and there were lots of things for bullets to ricochet off if the shot wasn't clean. _

"Where is your pilot?" Ed asks, hearing Sam continuing to tell them he's still looking for a good position to help free their friend and still captive team member.

"I'm a bloody pilot!" David snaps. "Now drop your damn guns or I'll drop him."

"You drop him and you're as good as dead," Ed warns.

David narrows his gaze at the confident team one leader and stifles an angry curse.

_"Okay I have the solution. It will be close with Spike in the way but I can do this," Sam tells the team. _

_"Sam you sure?" Greg asks anxiously._

_"Boss we can't let them get on that plane."_

_"Agreed," Greg groans followed by a small worried curse._

Sam takes a deep breath, his brain praying that at the last second his friend won't move and be the one to absorb the bullet instead of the mad man holding him hostage.

"Okay fine," David starts as his grip on Spike loosens.

"Hold..." Ed's voice is heard as David moves out of Sam's line of sight.

_"Damn it," Sam curses as David's head moves from his scope and Spike comes into view. "No solution."_

"Okay fine what?" Ed urges, both him and Wordy still ready to shoot in case something were to happen. "What do you want David?"

"I want what every other masterful serial killer wants."

"Yeah? And what is that?" Wordy asks in indifference.

"I want your friend to die!" David shouts as he pushes Spike away a few inches and prepares to fire.

"Sam!" Ed shouts and within seconds one resounding gunshot is heard; a few seconds later only one body falls to the ground.

_"Suspect is neutralized," Sam breathes into the headset._

Ed and Wordy rush toward Spike, Ed taking care of the fallen man, while Wordy gently pulls his friend to safety.

"Hey you okay?"

"Good timing. I was running out of parlor tricks," Spike rambles nervously as he offers his cuffed wrists to his friend to undo. "What happened to Annabelle? Is she okay?"

"Annabelle…she um…Jules?"

"_She died a few minutes ago," Jules somber tone is heard by them all._

"Oh," Spike is all he manages as he looks from the sympathetic gaze of Wordy to Ed and then back down to the ground. "Guess my record is still in tact," he utters in a glum tone.

"What?" Ed asks in confusion.

"Don't ask," Wordy frowns at Ed. "Okay, come on let's get that arm checked out," Wordy gently pats Spike on the back as they slowly exit the open airplane hangar.

"Thanks," Spike mentions in a low tone.

"For what?"

"For rescuing me," Spike frowns, his mind still torn about Annabelle. "I know it seems kinda lame but…"

"Hey you're welcome. You okay? We learned about this guy David and what he's capable of," Wordy explains as they near the entrance to the first airplane hangar that he had been held captive in only moments earlier.

"Won't be arm wrestling you anytime soon," Spike quips with a small smirk before his gaze is pulled toward the two Medics preparing Annabelle's lifeless body for transport back to the hospital.

"Spike…"

"Wordy I'm fine...really. Just glad it's over you know?" He looks at his friend with a pleading expression in his warm dark eyes that begged that the subject be dropped right now.

"Sure…okay we'll talk about it later."

"Spike," Jules greets him with a brief hug.

Spike offers the team a smile before he pulls back and looks over at Annabelle just as the medics zip close the heavy black plastic transport bag. He feels his stomach tighten and a lump form in his throat but he wasn't about to show any kind of weak emotion in front of his friends; that he would save for private – when he was alone – again.

"Come on…let's get that arm tended to," Wordy gently places his hand on Spike's back, urging him to pull his gaze away from the woman that had used him and nearly got him killed. Spike silently nods and allows his friend's protective stance to guide him toward the waiting ambulance to get tended too; the rest of the team would deal with the clean up. After a few words from Greg, Spike finally slumps down on the back ledge of the amublance to let himself be tended to.

Wordy watches Spike in an almost zombie-like state and knows that going home in his present mental condition wasn't going to be good at all, he'd find no comfort at home and telling his parents he nearly died was the last thing anyone on team one wanted – most of all Spike.

Spike's gaze keeps fixed on the ground, his face slightly wincing when the sweater was cut away and small fibers were pulled from the bloody mess.

"Sorry, but this will hurt," one of the medic's inform's Spike before they start to clean the wound.

"Yeow. Thanks for being honest," Spike half winces half smirks as the cool disinfectant starts to dance with his chewed up flesh. The medic adds a few dissolving stitches before telling Spike he'd either have to take off his jeans or they'd have to cut them off to get to the cut on his leg.

"I need a new pair anyways," Spike mentions casually, frowning as he watches the medic cut the denim around the wound and then work on the same as with his arm.

"A few more scars to brag about," Wordy winks when Spike looks up in frustration. "You have another pair back at home base right?"

"Yep," Spike nods and then looks back down. "So did you know what they wanted?"

"Yeah Troy was able to help us figure it out. Those two had a long history of grisly death's behind them. Good work using your training exercise to stall for time."

"Just glad you guys got my message in time," Spike slightly huffs as the medic finally finishes. He signs a few papers and then slowly follows after Wordy to the last black SUV that was waiting, Ed already having gone back with Greg.

Spike carefully gets into the front and just stares out the window with a placid expression.

"I know it hurts but um…"

"She used me. It was all a lie right?"

"You can't blame yourself for any of this. They targeted you specifically. Trust me if they hadn't heard…"

"Then it would have been someone else and then they would have failed and just kept going," Spike pauses before he continues. "Glad it ended with me," he concludes on a sour note.

"I'm sorry…you know I'm really sorry," Wordy groans as he slows the SUV and looks over at Spike. "I almost feel responsible."

"You? Why? Even if you said no, I probably woulda still gone with her."

"Damn it," Wordy lightly chuckles.

"What?"

"Ed said the same thing."

"I promise I won't tell him about that," Spike smirks and Wordy just nods.

"But seriously, I shoulda said…"

"What?" Spike counters. "She only wants to have a one night stand? I think I got that. I mean a woman like that…"

"Don't sell yourself short okay?"

"Well I have babycakes and that's fine."

"Okay stop with the sad stories," Wordy warns in a friendly tone.

"Hey I still gotta go home after all this and explain something to my mother," Spike groans. "Speaking of sad stories."

"Wanna spend the night with us?"

"Sorry but um…I don't do threesomes," Spike gently chuckles.

"Good because that was never an option," Wordy smiles back, glad that his friend at least _appeared _to be taking it better than expected. But Spike, as they all knew, had become a master of hiding his real emotions, he had to for the most part because he lived with two people that made it hard for him to really express much openly. But if anyone with a trained eye looked very close, Spike was an open book, usually wearing his precious heart on his sleeve. He just needed people to protect him from those that would use that precious heart in a neferious way.

"We do have the foldout in the basement," Wordy reminds him.

"I don't want you to feel guilty," Spike counters.

"Okay so maybe some of it is guilt but…damn it Spike I do feel responsible. I should have just said no and that's it."

"Again with the you telling me what to do and me not listening."

"At least come over for dinner. Give yourself a chance to unwind."

"Thanks but um…I think I'll just…I just want to be alone."

"Spike, this woman offered you her most intimate embrace and then betrayed you. Going home with only yourself to talk to about that is not good. Trust me, it's not."

"I don't want to um…to talk about it. I should have known better."

"You didn't see it coming," Wordy insists.

"You did," Spike counter-argues.

"Not all of it. I got an odd…mostly shallow vibe but trust me I thought…"

"Either way it was a no-win situation right?" Spike asks in sorrow. "Maybe I'm fated to be alone."

"Don't feed on your father's negativity. You once told me that he said you'd always be alone as long as you were in this job and that isn't true," Wordy reminds his friend as they pull into the underground parking lot of the SRU home base. "This was one really bad luck case, but I'm willing to bet that was it."

"Alright well I'll see you tomorrow."

"Come on Spike."

"Was her family really sick like she claimed?"

"You might wanna ask Greg for all the details on that. We only heard…"

"They were married," Spike states point blank, looking ahead outside instead of at his friend.

"Yeah we um….we all heard. Sorry. I didn't want to bring it up again. Did she tell you?"

"No, David did," Spike answers in a small tone as his mind thinks back to just after he had been pulled from the first warehouse.

_"So I hope you are happy for the death of my wife."_

"He blamed me for her death but it uh...well it never really had a chance to sink in until now. Wordy maybe if…"

"Spike you did nothing wrong. She was as good as dead anyways from what you told me and how it went down. Besides, Ed checked the plane and there was only a single ticket in his name. He wasn't planning on sharing that money with anyone."

"Annabelle said that David had something on her…guess that was it. Till death do us part. But at the end she tried to help me."

"Well at least that is one positive note to end on right?" Wordy retorts.

"She was married Wordy," Spike remarks dryly. "But I'm alive…and alone."

"Damn with the morbid stories. Just for that you are coming for dinner and no arguments," he chuckles as they get out of the black SUV and head for the elevator to go up.

"No I um…I just wanna shower and go home and sleep."

"I know it hurts Spike. I know you have feelings and as much as you tell yourself that it was just a job and you can push past it because you were only together for a few days I know that's a lie. You were happy…talking about Vancouver and I know you wanted more."

"I did want more," Spike sighs as they head into the quiet locker room. "Yeah it hurt but…but whatever, it's over right? You don't need to feel sorry for me."

"I don't feel sorry for you because I know you hate pity more than you hate me making you my own homemade pasta," Wordy's fist lightly punches Spike's unwounded arm, forcing a small smile to his friends lips. "But I know you don't want to go home and just dwell on this. And sleep isn't on your mind as much as you think you are tired."

"I am tired and hungry."

"Spike…"

"I really wanted it to work," Spike huffs as he leans back against his locker.

"I know you did," Wordy acknowledges. "And one of these days it will work and she won't be…"

"Psycho?"

"Spike…"

"Or married?"

"Yeah that," Wordy smirks; his brow still furrowed. "So what do you say? I can barbeque a mean steak…rare like you like it."

Spike looks at his friend and can only offer a tired smile. In truth, he didn't want to go home after all this, making up some smooth lie to his mother as he inevitably would have to, only to have to suffer through dinner and then be alone with his thoughts. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he was only a job to her and her lies were bought and paid for by her murdering husband…

"She was married…why didn't I see that?"

"She was using you Spike. I know it hurts and I'm sorry," Wordy offers his friend in sorrow.

Her husband. That stung even more than if she was just another woman partnered with some guy only for money. These two had said vows, which obviously meant nothing until the '_death do us part_', part. He was used. She had made him feel like a million dollars in only a few hours but it was all an act…he was used and he was human. It would hurt for some time.

"Okay so go have a shower…"

"I wonder what he had on her."

"Spike, she was probably telling you whatever she thought you needed to hear in order to get their money."

"It could have been the truth."

"Maybe her husband…I don't know had pictures or something. You couldn't have known as mostly everything about her was false."

"David did have something on Annabelle," Greg's warm voice is heard as he slowly walks up to them with a file in his hands.

"What?" Spike asks in haste.

"A son."

"A son?"

"Troy was able to unlock another file and find out who Patrick is. Her son. He's eight."

"Her son," Spike repeats with a heavy frown.

"Hers from before she met David. We found notes that he had kidnapped the child and was holding him in a safe house until Annabelle did all he needed her to do and then when he had gotten his money, he had said to her in a taped cell phone conversation that he would tell her where Patrick was being kept and she and him could go their own way and he would disappear."

"Plans changed…" Spike mumbles.

"What?" Both Wordy and Greg ask at once.

"I guess her conscience got to her in the end. All she wanted was her son."

"Spike, David wasn't planning on letting Annabelle get on that plane," Greg tells him in sorrow. "Another conversation was to the man holding the boy giving him instructions on what to do with his body."

"I know. Where is her son now?"

"He was found a few days ago by the FBI at a hiding place in Newark and is being sent to live with her sister in Seattle which is close to Annabelle's family in Vancouver. That much was true. Her mother does have early Alzheimer's and her other sister was killed in a plane crash as she told you."

"Right…thanks."

Without saying another word, Spike turns his back to them, opens his locker, pulls out a small bag and then slowly heads toward the showers, leaving Wordy and Greg to ponder this newest information.

"Make sure he's not alone tonight."

"He agreed to have dinner with us but I'll chain him to the couch if I have to," Wordy smirks, earning a pat on the back from their boss.

"See you both tomorrow."

Wordy calls Shelly and tells her to set one more place setting for Spike and that they'd be home shortly. But about twenty minutes later, after the water had been turned off, all that was left was silence and Wordy quickly pushes himself up to go and investigate.

"Spike?" Wordy calls out as he heads for the showers, Sam and Ed entering the locker room behind him. "Hey Spike you descent?"

"What's goin' on?" Ed asks in interest.

"Not sure yet," Wordy replies as he enters the shower area. "Spike?"

But instead of finding his friend, he sees the ripped and bloody sweater and jeans in the garbage and the back door open.

"Ah damn it!" Both Ed and Sam hear and exchange wondering glances as Wordy reappears.

"What's up?" Sam queries.

"Spike's gone," Wordy comes out with a semi-panicked expression.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay so am gonna wrap up next chappy but where to do you think Wordy will find Spike? Hope you liked the small twist in this chapter and please review and let me know what you thought and thanks!


	8. Picking up the Pieces

**Title: ****500 Minutes  
><strong>**Chapter 8 – Picking up the Pieces**

**A/N:** First off a huge **THANK YOU **to **Maryam, rgs38, mollyshuman, reidlover72, LaneIA, Alex-Kreklo, nimue73, sam spade-fitzgerald, reidequalslover, accounting professional, iheartlife, AuntMingy, Ginger, Prinzessin, Karma, Sharon, Warrior-chic, fanfictionfan63,** (**Sorry if I forgot anyone - I only went back a few chaps) **that so faithfully read and reviewed my first multi-chap Spike story, certainly is not the last. I am glad that you liked all even chapters before this and hope you like this one just as much.

* * *

><p>"I only turned my back for about ten minutes. Didn't want to seem like I was hovering by the door," Wordy sighs. "But before anyone panics, I think I know where he went," Wordy's voice breaks the mounting silence.<p>

"Where?"

"Certainly not home," Sam mentions in truth.

"Not to see Annabelle's son I hope," Ed ponders.

"I doubt he'd do that," Greg states with some uncertainty in his tone.

"Where?" Sam asks Wordy.

"Just let me check something before we start to panic," Wordy tells Ed, Greg and Sam as he turns around to his locker and then pulls out his jacket.

"Want come company?" Ed inquires in a gentle tone.

"Nope, I've got this one. But I might need some help after I find him."

"Alright, we'll wait for your call," Greg nods, giving Wordy a sympathetic gaze.

Wordy grabs Spike's jacket from his locker and then heads for the exit doors, his mind in a state of worry but his heart telling him that in a tense situation like this were was only one place that he could go, express himself and not be judged.

XXXXXXXX

"Hey buddy…it's me," Spike starts with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes briefly as he tries to get the pounding between his temples to stop. "You would not believe today…okay let me start from the beginning."

"There was this girl. She was hot," Spike pauses with a small smirk. "Wordy…he um…well he was with me at the bar, at Lou's and she came up to us - well to me. I…yeah I was a bit drunk," he chuckles nervously. "You woulda liked her, dark red hair, blue-grey eyes, killer body. But um…well she was married."

"Okay yeah I know I can hear you already getting after me," Spike leans back a little and offers a small frown. "Course with you there with me instead of Wordy it might…yeah whatever right?"

Spike takes a deep breath as he feels his heart rate starting to increase and his stomach tighten. It was cold, dark, the sky threatening to rain; he was tired, hungry, his whole body aches but going home was the last thing he wants. Just needed to talk.

"Okay so this girl…man and what she did in bed…she uh…yeah she was pretty great. But here's the thing she was married and her and her psycho husband kidnapped me…hey get this buddy…they wanted me to hack into the Federal Reserve."

Spike's lips offer a small chuckle the same time his stomach offers a small grumble.

"Yeah I'm hungry…guess I should get home but…well you know what that's like after a hard days work," he sighs as he leans forward and places his head in his hands. "Not exactly a place to unwind you know? Okay back to my story..."

"This girl Chloe...Annabelle...she died…well they both died and she…she had a kid. I mean the kid was the husband's collateral so it's a good thing he's gone but um…well he has no family now and that kinda sucks. He's with his aunt in Seattle but…yeah messed up right? I sure know how to attract em."

"Her life story was kinda similar to mine so I had thought that…well it seemed like…yeah I know too perfect and that always means too good to be true."

A slight sound distracts Spike's personal confession, prompting him to look around, slightly squinting into the darkness around him before he gets his mind back on track.

"I guess I just wanted this so badly you know? No more having to come home and face more tension than I do on the job. See you had it lucky…oh I know I coulda moved out anytime…and probably still can but um…well you know why I don't. I wonder if the team thinks less of me?"

Spike pauses for a few seconds before he slightly cocks his head to the right and speaks again. "Wordy? Does the team think that?"

"Nope…never," Wordy answers softly as he slowly steps out from the shadows and walks toward Spike, dropping to his knees beside his friend handing him his jacket.

"How long um…were you listening?" Spike queries as he pulls his jacket over his slightly shivering frame.

"Not long. Hey Lew," Wordy nods to the solemn tombstone that marked their friends final resting place.

"How'd you know I'd be here?" Spike asks, looking away.

"You needed a friend who could just listen right? S'ides I tracked you here one time before."

"When?"

"Well I never said anything until now," Wordy assures him with a small smile.

"Just didn't want to be judged or something," Spike answers with a frown as he looks down at his fingers as they fiddle with a small stone.

"Do you really think that of the team?"

"Wordy I slept with a married woman," Spike groans as he slumps backward onto the grass, staring up into the inky black sky. Wordy follows suit and soon both were looking up at the darkened sky.

"You didn't know and can't be faulted for that. I didn't and if I did and told you and you still went ahead then you'd have a real reason to worry."

"I wanted her to be it."

"I know you did and I wanted that for you. Her story…yeah she seemed…"

"To good to be true?" Spike finishes with an exasperated sigh.

"And most things that are too good to be true usually are."

"What about you and Shelly? You seem perfect?"

"Marriage is hard work Spike and neither of us are perfect. Shelly has her faults just as I do, gosh I know we drive each other more than crazy at times and have, much like Ed and Sophie, neared the breaking point. Ours just didn't tempt fate as Ed's did. But they recovered and so did we. You make it work and realize at the end of the day, despite that, that you want to be with them no matter what. Plus Shelly and I were good friends before we said I do and that really counts."

"Friends…yeah I'd like that."

"It will come Spike. A one night stand isn't your thing," Wordy twists his head to the right and looks at his friend. "You know you could always try the arranged marriage thing."

"Yeah," Spike laughs. "Then at least I can blame my parents instead of myself if it doesn't work."

"True," Wordy smiles, happy that his friend's mood seems to have lifted somewhat. "What are you going to tell your mother?"

"It didn't work out…that's my standard line," Spike shrugs.

"You know you really gotta stop with the sad stories," Wordy lightly chuckles.

"I know and I uh…" Spike starts as he slowly sits up, Wordy following suit. "I guess I'm still in shock."

"It will take some time."

"And I don't want to go home tonight."

"You can…"

"I think I'll just stay in a hotel and just…I don't know sleep I guess. No room service that's for sure," he smirks and Wordy just pats him on the back.

"But you need to eat right?"

"Wordy, it's late and your family…"

"Has already eaten without me," Wordy confesses, forcing Spike to look at him in sorrow.

"Oh I'm sorry."

"Hey it's not your fault, I called Shelly on the way over. She said to make sure I get you something to eat."

"Wordy…"

"Seriously you aren't going to say no to me are you?"

"Uh…no?" Spike smirks as he turns back to Lew's headstone. "Alright buddy, Wordy's going mom on me so I um…gotta run. See you later okay?"

"Bye Lew. I'll take care of Spike for ya," Wordy whispers as he and Spike stand up and then slowly head toward the black SRU SUV.

"Think Lew would have known about Ch…Annabelle?"

"Hardly, you two were the same," Wordy chuckles. "Spike as I said…"

"Yeah I know…it wasn't my fault."

"You know for a moment Ed thought you might have gone to see her son."

"I had thought about it for a few minutes but the I didn't really know Annabelle and not even sure what I would have said. I just hope the FBI or whoever tells him that his mother died trying to save a life."

"I'm sure if you ask Greg, he'll make sure they do tell him that."

"I will," Spike stops as they reach the SUV. "I can just walk or…"

"Seriously don't make me take drastic measures. Get in and we are going for the best pizza in town."

"Really? The best pizza? Mama Scarlatti makes the best pizza in town," Spike laughs as he gets into the warm cabin of the dark SUV.

"Okay so maybe the second best…all I know is, it's kinda okay but you can't beat the setting or the company."

"Well I like the sound of that, lead on," Spike replies with growing enthusiasm.

In truth he wanted to get to Lew's gravestone and just pour out his heart without anyone asking further questions or making comments about what he could have done or not seen coming. He knew he wasn't to blame for sleeping with a married woman, because in truth he didn't know until David told him after Annabelle was dead. He also wasn't about to enter her son's life as he didn't have that intimate a connection with Annabelle. She was an accomplice to murder and possibly a murderer herself, that he couldn't excuse – ever. But she did die trying to save him and was being blackmailed by her husband because of her son. It was up to his aunt, Annabelle's sister to inform Patrick of what she thought would benefit him and when. Spike would only chalk this back up to a hard lesson learned.

"Okay…why are we back at work?" Spike inquires as they SUV pulls into the parking lot of SRU headquarters.

"Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions."

"Greg Parker," Spike retorts dryly. "But why are we here?"

"I'll tell you in a second."

Without a word, Wordy heads for the elevator with a very curious Spike in tow. They reach their floor and as soon as the elevator door's open, Spike's senses are instantly assaulted with the smell of fresh pizza; a smile instantly forming.

"Welcome to the SRU café," Jules greets them with a broad smile, forcing Spike to look at Wordy who only smiles and shrugs.

"Next time use the sirens to drive faster," Sam teases. "The pizza is getting cold."

"And the beer about to go flat," Ed pipes up.

The whole team had changed into their casual clothes and were sitting in the team meeting room with a few large pizza's and beer in the middle of the table.

"Okay so we are about to start our feature presentation."

"What?" Spike looks at Greg in wonder.

"Well we can't have pizza and beer without a good movie right?"

"Yeah we got Napoleon Dynamite for you," Sam laughs, garnering an arm slap from Jules.

"Hey Clark actually likes that film," Ed frowns.

"He would," Sam retorts.

"You okay?" Greg asks warmly as he joins Spike and Wordy near the main entrance.

"Yeah but…"

"It was a tense case for all of us and this is how we unwind. Come on…just sit back and relax okay?" Greg urges.

"Okay," Spike agrees with a wide smile as he takes his jacket off and goes and sits beside Sam and Wordy, Jules on the other side of Sam; Ed and Greg completing the circle.

"Okay so what movie did you really get?"

"Transformers," Sam pipes up. "What?"

"I told him Inception," Ed insists.

"I wanted Limitless," Greg adds.

"I said something funny," Jules frowns.

"Hey guys it was next door at the corner store and it was either that or something with a foreign subtitle," Sam frowns, enduring a few laughs from his team mates.

"Well the Leaf's aren't playing so it will have to do," Wordy adds to the discussion. "We okay to show movies on the SRU projection TV?"

"If it breaks we can always say that it was Greg's idea," Jules teases, earning a warm smile from Greg.

"I'll just blame a computer virus," Greg counters.

"Hey I never got to thank Troy for his help with all this," Spike frowns.

"He knows," Greg assures him. "But you can call him tomorrow, tonight you just need to unwind."

"Yeah now we eat," Wordy insists. "Sam?"

"Okay so just press play right?"

"Give me that. Greg?" Ed snatches the remote from Sam's hand and then gives it to Greg. "Well I'm not taking responsibility for breaking it," he smirks at Greg.

"Yep that's why they pay me the big bucks. I know how to work a TV remote," Greg chuckles as he presses play the big screen lights up.

Spike leans back in his chair, takes a slice of pizza and slowly eats it. His mind wasn't really interested in processing a movie that really was one of his favorites or eating pizza that didn't compare to his mothers; he was tired and emotionally drained. But he was with people that understood for the most part the battle waging inside him and in a few hours that battle would subside and he'd be able to go home and get some rest, come back in the next day and face a new challenge with a clear mind.

He thinks about Annabelle and the hard choices she made that ended in her ultimate demise but how for a few moments, she came to life and had thanked him for that. David didn't love her in the end, maybe he never did, so he finds some small comfort in the back of his mind that he was able to help her see that and also feel some small measure of happiness in return.

As much as he wanted to hold resentment against Annabelle for using him, he couldn't; she paid the price with her life and would lose out on the future her son was going to offer. But the happy moments with Chloe Smith would live on inside his mind, a few lessons now stored up for the next romantic encounter – whenever that might happen to be.

Spike, closes his eyes, quickly whisked away into the comforting realm of sleep; his body shutting down instantly due to physical drain and emotional fatigue. He didn't care that he wasn't attentive to his team after they had done this all for him – he was just glad that he wasn't alone and knew they'd understand. And even after the credits had rolled and a few others went their way, one friend was still at his side, never leaving until he was ready to go.

Wordy looks at his watch and then up at Ed before Ed calls it a night. "When do I wake him up?" Wordy asks as he looks over a Spike's slumped over frame. "Eight hours is about standard right?"

"You mean 500 minutes," Ed smirks and Wordy just shakes his head. "See you tomorrow."

Wordy whispers a goodnight and then turns back to Spike with a small frown. As much as he knows Spike needs the sleep, sleeping in the odd seated position he's in now would only do more harm to his weary frame than good. So with much reluctance he taps Spike on the shoulder.

"Hey…movie over? Oh man…sorry," Spike mumbles as he rubs his tired eyes.

"Yeah no big deal. Come on…lets go you need sleep."

"I um…I don't want to go home."

"I know…you'll sleep at my place tonight. Shelly's already made up the bed downstairs," Wordy pats him on the back as he helps him with his jacket. He had already called Shelly and asked her to make up the basement couch as Spike would be spending the night. He would explain tomorrow that it wasn't out of pity or obligation, they were a team – they were family; they take care of each other.

"That's just what we do."

**THE END!**

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><p><strong>AN:** So this ending was kind of sappy but then after all the angst I put my poor Spike through, figured he needed some right? I really enjoyed writing this and will be back with more! So I hope you'll leave me one final review and also please let me know if you'd like more adventures/stories in the future like this and thanks so much in advance! :D

**PS:** I also posted chapter one of a new Ed/Wordy ficlet called 'Inside Man' and hope you enjoy that one as well. Thanks again!


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